


Beautiful Insanity

by TheRussetNightingale



Series: Scrolls [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Depression, Elder Scrolls - Freeform, F/M, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insanity, scrolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 47,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4554303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRussetNightingale/pseuds/TheRussetNightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book 2 in the Scrolls Series. Sequel to Moonlight's Embrace. http://www.wattpad.com/myworks/11020035-moonlights-embrace-a-skyrim-fanfic<br/>Rated T for use of strong language, graphic violence, and sexual themes.<br/>This is going to be a bit darker than its predecessor.</p><p>  ...</p><p>My name is Regina. But you can just call me Karliah's sister, everyone does.<br/>I'm the biggest screw-up in Skyrim. I'm not a warrior like everyone else, I love magic, the arcane mysteries... and that alienated me from everyone.</p><p>Sometimes I wondered if my own family loved me. If they didn't... then what was I worth? Certainly nothing. I'm the lesser one, the shadow of my mother and sister. There's nothing for me here. There never was, and never will be...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pre-Reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book 2 in the Scrolls Series. Sequel to Moonlight's Embrace. http://www.wattpad.com/myworks/11020035-moonlights-embrace-a-skyrim-fanfic
> 
> Rated T for use of strong language, graphic violence, and sexual themes.
> 
> This is going to be a bit darker than its predecessor.

 

...

_For those of you who are new to the story, technically this can be read without first reading Moonlight's Embrace. But I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd take a look at the first. You're not required to, but I've gathered some comments from it, and I hope that you'll take their word for it._

_From Blue5ky: I'm still very much enjoying your work. It is very engaging and detailed, and I think that you're an amazing author. Keep up the awesome work!_

_From maecythefangirl: YESSS THIS IS SO SO SO VERY WONDERFUL I CANT EVEN MY OTP IS COMING BACK_

_From HybridLucario: You Did Good, You Wrote Very Well.  
_

_From KatMtheUnicorn: So I know I'm a little late to comment, but this is one of the best fan fictions I have read. I usually don't run around my room, crying in pain from a story. I love how you write. The details were amazing. I hope you will go far with your talent, and be amazing. ( But you already are. ) ❤️_

_From ToxicReader2125: I loved this book and don't know how I haven't noticed it sooner, I wish it was a series now so I could keep reading and reading so I don't die from having something exactly like this to read!_

_..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments from Wattpad.com


	2. Prologue

Russet cradled her newborn daughter in her arms.

"Can I see her, mama?" Karliah asked meekly, stretching her neck. Russet smiled and leaned down, showing the baby girl to her eldest. Dark brown hair, nearly black, spilled out from the cloth. She sucked on her pale thumb as she slumbered. "Why did you get her?"

"She was a surprise, dear." The Dragonborn tucked the blanket under her baby's chin. "But your father and I love her."

"She doesn't look like you or papa."

"She looks like your grandma," Russet answered, a tinge of anger in her voice. "Why don't you go to bed, sweetie?"

"I don't wanna!" the four-year-old complained, tugging at her red curls.

"Karliah," her mother warned. The child looked down.

"Okay, mama." Karliah scurried off upstairs, and the sound of a creak drew the woman's attention.

"Hello, Bryn!" she greeted her husband happily, and he kissed her cheek.

"My lass. So, have you come up with a name for our little one yet?"

"I have. Her name will be Regina, for she will be like a queen among fools." The irony was that it would soon prove to be the opposite-- as a fool among queens.


	3. The Seer's Omen

"Come along, Regina." Russet tightened her hand on her five-year-old's hand. Her sister was already nine, and played with Ysolda's children happily. Regina couldn't seem to make many friends, preferring to stay inside and read.

"Why did we leave?" the child queried, looking up at her mother with bright blue eyes.

"Mama's here to see her friends," Russet answered, smiling at her young daughter. Brynjolf followed Karliah as she ran behind a house, keeping an eye on her.  _My family is perfect,_  the Dragonborn thought. "I'm going to leave you with Olava, okay?" Russet bent down and looked her daughter in the eye. "Stay with her. If I learn that you left, I'm going to take away all of your books for the rest of Sun's Height. Do you understand me?" Regina nodded rapidly, her eyes wide. "Good. Let's go, she's right over there."

"Hello, my dear!" the old woman greeted Russet when she walked over. "Is this your dear daughter?"

"It is. This is Regina." The girl hid behind her mother, peeking out slightly. Olava smiled at Regina.

"Would you like me to read your future, Regina?"

"Um... okay."

"Can I have your hand, sweetie? Thank you." The seer rubbed her fingers over Regina's palm, her face becoming one of concentration. She began to shiver violently, and Russet tore her daughter away from the old woman. "Insanity!! Madness!! Magic, enchantments, the arcane!" Russet put her hands over Regina's ears. "The greatest evil! Divided! Order! A dark path!" Olava continued to rant, and Russet ushered Regina away from the seer.

"What was that about, mama?" Karliah queried, staring at the old woman.

"Olava's gone crazy," the red-haired woman mumbled.

"Lass?"

"I'll talk to you on the carriage ride. We're going home."

...

Both of their daughters had fallen asleep. Regina was curled up on her mother's lap while Russet stroked her hair.

"What happened?" Brynjolf whispered. Russet stared at her husband fearfully.

"Olava has a gift to see the future. She mentioned magic and insanity, and it's worrying me."

"She's gone senile," Brynjolf joked, patting his wife's hand. "Don't worry about it." Russet sighed.

"You're right. Regina will turn out just fine, I'm sure." Her daughter sighed in her slumber, and her father kissed her brow.

"Sleep well, my little princess."

...

Six-year-old Regina hid in the space near Solitude's entrance, shaking with fear. Sparks danced on her fingertips, and they grew louder and more frequent the more scared she became. "I don't have magic, I don't have magic..." she chanted, closing her eyes and praying to the Nine Divines that it was a dream. Unfortunately, when she opened them, she still held a blue ball of energy in her right hand.

She focused. Eventually, the sparks burned out, and her breathing steadied. When the magic was gone, she felt drained. Regina began to pant as it took its toll. She could hardly keep her eyes open.

...

"Regina?!" Russet hiked up her skirt and searched the town. "Regina, dammit, come out here now!" The little girl was nowhere to be seen. "Guards!"

"Yes, Thane?"

"Search for my daughter," she commanded. The guard nodded and immediately relayed the order to the others. "Regina!"  _I swear to the Nine, when I find you, you are beyond grounded._

"Lass! Russ, come here!" The Dragonborn ran to her husband, who held a tiny shivering girl in his arms. "I found her hiding in the crevice between the wall and the door!"

"Oh, my precious Regina... what happened? Why were you hiding?!"

"Tired..." the girl mumbled, weakly reaching her arms out for her mother. Russet took Regina into her arms. "There wuz blue sparks in my hands... they were hurting me..." Russet shot a terrified glance towards her husband.

"We're taking you home, Regina."

...

When Regina was twelve years old, she realized that no one would ever think of anything but Karliah. She had everything-- friends, love, trust, all the boys-- and Regina had _nothing_. She tried not to use magic around other people, but when alone, she would pour herself into spellbooks and scrolls. She was very advanced for her age. Recently, her pet fox Vix had died, and she was researching the most hated of magic-- necromancy.

The dark-haired girl laid out the white fox and began to cast the spell. "Of flesh and bone, of blood and life..." Vix's body began to glow, and his eyes opened halfway. Regina silently celebrated and continued the ritual.

"Re _gina_!!" The startled girl squeaked in surprise, and the fox disintegrated into ash.

"Vix! No!" she wailed. Her father stomped over, a look of fury on his face.

"What in all hells do you think you're doing?" Regina looked up at Brynjolf with tears on her face.

"Trying to bring Vix back, pa. Sybil Stentor said--"

"I said there would be no more practicing magic!"

"Technically, I wasn't practicing, I was--"

"Don't push your luck, missy," Brynjolf warned, grabbing his youngest daughter's arm. "Come on, we're going to talk with your mother. Russ!"

"In the dining room!" she called back. She held a wedge of cheese in her hands, picking pieces off and chewing slowly. Brynjolf emerged from the basement with a disappointed scowl.

"Your daughter decided to try her hand at necromancy." He gave a pointed look to Russet, who appeared dumbfounded. She wiped her mouth and removed the kettle from the fire.

"Go upstairs, Regina."

"But--"

" _Now_." The girl scurried upstairs, hovering near the staircase so she could hear what was going on. Russet sipped at her hot tea. Her husband sat across from her, his fingers against his temples.

"She did it again. I cannot believe she did it again. I'd have thought that setting the entire market on fire would have taught her not to use magic."

"You can't expect her to be just the way you want her to be," Russet reasoned, putting her cup down on the table. Brynjolf eyed her.

"But she should've known. Regina's twelve, and once again, she's been practicing magic. She should be more like Karliah. "

"Brynjolf!" the Dragonborn scolded, fixing the former thief with a stern glare. "Are you insane? That's our daughter! We need to support her!"

"Not when she's trying to raise the dead, I damn well don't!" Brynjolf stood up. "Why are you so supportive of her magic?! Save that for the elves! I'm not having  _my_  children dabbling in the arcane! Gods, why couldn't you have given birth to a normal daughter? The first one was fine!!" Russet growled furiously, veins popping against her skin in the struggle not to scream.

"I cannot believe that you would say that!! To think that she's inferior to Karliah!"

"What kind of a Nord are you?!"

"One that loves her daughter for who she is!!" The force of her Voice sent her husband reeling backwards, and he dug his boots into the floor to keep a grip.

"This is what I'm talking about," he snarled through his teeth, fixing his wife with a sharp glare. "Magic is nothing but a problem, and anyone who possesses it doesn't belong!" Russet stepped back, shocked by Brynjolf's statement. He walked out of the house briskly, slamming the door behind him.

Regina hunched on the stairs, cradling her knees and trying to keep in the tears. Her hands crackled with electricity.  _Why can't papa accept me? Why can't I be normal?_ She heard her mother's slow footsteps on the floor, and the young girl fled into her bedroom.

"I told you," her sister whispered cruelly. "They don't love you. They love me!" Regina crawled into her bed, hugging Nessa the doll tightly.

"But--" her throat closed up, and she was unable to speak. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she stared at the ceiling. Karliah was soon snoring softly, while the younger sister's slumber held a series of nightmares clawing at her chest.


	4. Time

 

"Regina, sweetheart?" The girl kept her eyes shut as she recognized the rumbling tone of her father. "I'm sorry, I really am. I know you, and I know you heard what I was saying." Regina didn't reply. "You're just like me, and I suppose we butt heads sometimes. I want you to know that I love you, and that I'll always support you. If you choose to pursue magic, then I  _will_  stand behind you." He stood up, and Regina fought to keep back the tears. He held the door open and paused. "Goodnight, my princess. I love you."

As he walked away, he heard her say, "Daddy, I love you more."

...

 

The next morning, Regina couldn't look at her father. Her mother hadn't spoken to him, but he was being extra sweet to them all. He brought flowers to Russet, a new brush to Karliah, and an entire bag of spellbooks for Regina.

"Brynjolf," Russet muttered to her husband, putting the flowers into a vase, "you know I love you. But what was that about last night?"

"I don't know, lass. I don't believe what I said. I think I hit the ale a bit too hard."

"Neither can I. And I do hope that you're not trying to use ale as an excuse."

"I have no excuse, my love. Our daughters are precious to me." Regina heard his words, but couldn't believe them. They would stick with her for the rest of her life.

 

...

 

Seventeen-year-old Regina was forced to attend her sister's ceremony. She'd gotten rid of a pack of Falmer that had wandered aboveground and attacking passerby. Karliah was becoming a Thane of Solitude, while she was just the younger sister that hung in the background. For years, she'd been told that her sister was better than her. That Karliah was a hero like her mother.

"Don't you wish it was you up there?" a teenage boy sneered, poking Regina in the side as High Queen Elisif placed a circlet on Karliah's brow. The dark-haired girl shot him a dangerous glare, trying to calm the magic inside of her. "But alas, how difficult must it feel to be worthless, just a shadow of her sister..." he clicked his tongue. "Not all of us can be important."

"Shut up," Regina snarled through her teeth, finding control growing increasingly difficult.

"What'll you do if I don't?" he challenged, flashing a toothy grin at Regina.

"You don't want to find out."

"Oh, I'm so scared! What are you going to do, hit me with a book? Run to mommy?" Her hands were hot with the lightning that was bound to escape her flesh at any second. "You're nothing compared to your big sister, are you? You'll never be anyone important. You--"

" _Shut the hell up!"_  Regina shrieked, her anger exploding. The boy flew back and hit several adults, all of whom sent shocked glances towards her. The girl squeaked and hid her hands before fleeing from the Blue Palace.

 

...

 

"Regina! Come back!" her father shouted, picking up his pace. Fearful, the girl quickened her feet with a spell and darted inside Proudspire Manor.  _Son of a bitch... the Elder Scrolls. Mother had one that could turn back time. Where is it?!_ The blue-eyed girl rifled through her parent's chest until she finally found the one. She opened it and thought of earlier that day, hoping it would take her to that morning. She trusted in her magical ability to take her back.

Sure enough, the image of that morning began to appear in her mind-- until the door slammed open with a tired-looking Brynjolf and Russet. "Regina!" The intrusion startled her, sending her magic out of control and ruining her concentration. She fell into the Scroll while her parents screamed in grief when she vanished.


	5. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I'm sticking with the words and plotline for the most part for the quest, but you'll notice that I've changed quite a bit... quiiiite a bit. I won't deal with the majority of bull that goes on, so it'll be very brushed over after the first dungeon.
> 
> I intended for this chapter to be like 1k words. o___o Look at it now, so beautiful. It's now officially 7157 words right... about... now!
> 
> ...

 

((23rd of Sun's Height, 3E 433))

((Regina's POV))

I landed roughly on a grassy hill, the Elder Scroll in my hand. The sun shone brightly overhead. Dust coated my skin, and I coughed in disgust. "Where the hell am I?" I wondered. This obviously wasn't Skyrim. I'd landed in a deciduous forest, and the sharp scent of sap hit my nose. "Actually, the better question is  _when_." Given the nature of the Elder Scroll, it was impossible to tell how it had mixed with my magic. I studied the landscape and noticed a grand city in the distance. The elaborate gown that my mother had bought for me was now coated with dirt.

"Halt!" My heart sank.  _What now?_  A steel-clad man that I assumed to be a guard ran up to me. "Who are you?"

"I-- my name is Regina." I berated myself silently for not having given out a pseudonym. If I was in the past, I hardly wanted to change anything that might have an effect on my future.

"Regina? Where are you from?" He fixed me with a distrusting glare, eyeing my foreign garb.

"I hail from the southern edge of Skyrim, from Helgen," I lied smoothly. The man-- an Imperial-- crossed his arms.

"Helgen? You chose a poor time to come to Cyrodil, Nord. The Gray Fox has been striking more and more often."

"I didn't know that."

"I doubt that. Have you been living under a rock? I've made it my life's quest to capture him... And how on all of Tamriel did you get an Elder Scroll?"  _Damn..._

"Er..."

"I'm taking you in for custody. You might be in cohorts with the Gray Fox," the guard said sourly, a distasteful look on his face. He grabbed my arm forcefully, and I yanked it away.

"Who do you think you are?!"

"Hieronymus Lex, the commander of the Imperial Guard." I began to have an idea of where I was. The fall of Uriel Septim VII. Hieronymus Lex and the Gray Fox. I'd landed right smack in the middle of the Oblivion Crisis. Lex grabbed my arm again and pulled me away, and despite the situation, I felt a bit smug towards my oh-so-perfect sister.  _Really? Reading never got me anywhere? I doubt you'd last a day in here, Karliah. I know everything about this realm. I can avoid danger and get myself back to our family. What would you do? Sleep with the Moth Priests?_

...

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

"I'm the daughter of lumber mill owners from Helgen."

"Liar." I gritted my teeth as the High Elf questioner sent a bolt of lightning my way. It only stung, but I knew that it would only get worse. "I'll say it again-- where are you from?"

"When a man loves a woman, they--"

"By the gods, you're insufferable!" I received another shock. "What city do you hail from? Answer me, wench!" I could see his patience waning.

"I'm from Solitude."

"Why do you have an Elder Scroll?"

"It was my mother's," I mumbled truthfully. "Can you let me go now?"

"I can hardly trust a young girl running around with an Elder Scroll." I watched in dismay as a Moth Priest came up and took the Scroll. "Take it to the library." I strained against my shackles, desperation filling my body.

"Give it back! I need it to get home!"

"What was that?"

"I--" I realized that I'd made a potentially dangerous error. "My family's going to have my ass if I don't return with it!"  _If I ever manage to return. Gods, if only I'd had a chance to return! If only Hieronymus Lex hadn't shown up..._

"Why does a poor family in Skyrim need an Elder Scroll?" I'd run out of options. As smart as I was, I couldn't smooth-talk my way out of situations like my sister. I attracted trouble like a magnet. I focused on the shackles binding me, squirming as ice burned my skin. The metal cracked off, and I moved my wrists.

"I don't have to answer to you." My magicka swirled in my veins, and I marveled at how powerful I could be.

"Uncooperative little bitch, eh? Perhaps this will change your mind." He sent a powerful bolt of lightning at me, and in a flash, I put up a reflective ward. His spell bounced off harmlessly and coursed through his body. The Altmer screeched in surprise and pain, but I knew that was only a minor setback. I waved my hand over the door, unlocking it with ease.

With a few turns, I ended up in the library. Immediately, I began searching for the Elder Scroll that would get me home. Normally, I'd have been content to stare at the books and pore over their pages for the rest of my days, but that wasn't exactly a feasible option. I sent out a searching spell. It settled over the floor, and I took a step forwards-- but slammed into an Imperial guard. He glared down at me, and I was surrounded by five more guards.  _All this fuss over a girl?!_

As much as I hated to leave my one way out behind, I did the one thing I could think of. I allowed myself to be taken into custody. It never occurred to me to use my magic to escape at that time. Only later would that thought appear.

...

I sat in my cell grumpily, ignoring the taunts of a nearby Dark Elf. The jangling of armor sounded in the hall. "Hey, you hear that? They guards are coming, for you! Hahaha!" he cackled. I scowled at him, sticking to the back corner.

"Baurus? Lock that door behind us." A woman was speaking.

"Yes, ma'am." The loud click of the door echoed through the halls, and I put my head between my knees.

"My sons... they're dead, aren't they?" a male said, his deep voice tinged with sorrow.

"We don't know that, Sire," the woman rushed to say. "The messenger only said that they were attacked."

"No, they're dead. I know it." I was struck with knowledge.  _I'm going to get out!_ Then the real heaviness of the day hit me.  _This is the day Uriel Septim the Seventh is murdered by the Mythic Dawn... I wish I could change his fate. Perhaps I can... if I don't want to exist in the future. Small changes have big consequences... and so do big changes. Forgive me, Divines, but I cannot save his life._

"My job right now is to get you to safety." She stopped outside my cell with the Emperor. "What's this prisoner doing here?" she barked.  _That's Captain Renault._  "This cell is supposed to be off-limits." Baurus scratched the back of his head.

"Usual mix-up with the Watch... I..."

"Never mind. Get that gate open." Renault looked directly at me coldly. "Stand back, prisoner. I won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."

"I'm already against the wall," I replied irritably. "What more do you want?"

"No sign of pursuit, sir," another Blade told the Emperor.

"Good," Renault responded. "Let's go, we're not out of this yet."

"Stand aside," Baurus ordered. "Stay out of the way, and you won't get hurt." I shrugged in response. They opened the gate, and Baurus stood by me. "Stay put, prisoner." The Emperor stopped in his tracks and stared at me.

"You... I've seen you... Let me see your face." I looked up, startled. "You are the one from my dreams." His face turned sorrowful. "Then the stars were right, and this is the day."  _I am so goddamn confused. I haven't read up on the third era as much as I should have, but all I know is that the Emperor tried to escape through a jail cell. It didn't say anything about a prisoner... did I screw up the timeline?!_ "Gods give me strength."

"What's going on?" I asked hoarsely.

"Assassins attacked my sons, and I'm next. My Blades are leading me out of the city along a secret escape route. By chance, the entrance to that escape route leads through your cell." He paused. "Perhaps the gods have placed you here so that we may meet. As for what you have done... it does not matter. That is not what you will be remembered for. You are a citizen of Tamriel, and will serve her in your own way."

"I go my own way," I grumbled darkly, ignoring the fact that I was speaking to an Emperor of Tamriel.

"So do we all," Uriel agreed. "But what path can be avoided whose end is fixed by the almighty gods?"  _Great. I'm destined to be completely useless._

"Please sire, we must keep moving," Captain Renault pleaded, pushing on a brick. The wall slid in and vanished, opening a path. "Better not close this one. There's no way to open it from the other side."

"Looks like this is your lucky day," Baurus remarked. "Just stay out of our way."

I followed the Emperor and his Blades through corridor after corridor. Several guards muttered to me angrily to stay out of the way.

"There's trouble ahead," the Emperor warned. Sure enough, out of nowhere, armor-covered assassins appeared.

"For the Emperor!" the Blades cried, rushing into battle. The killers were slain, at the cost of Captain Renault. I retrieved her sword and fastened it to my belt. Who knew if I'd need it or not?

"Are you alright, sire? We're clear for now," Baurus said.

"Captain Renault?"

"She's dead. I'm sorry, sire, but we have to keep moving." I said a quick prayer for the fallen captain and followed them away.

"How could they be waiting for us here?" Glenroy spat furiously.

"Don't know." Baurus spoke up. "But it's too late to go back now. Don't worry sire, we  _will_  get you out of here."  _Yeah... you'll get him out of here. Dead, albeit, but out of here. Oh, how lovely._ "They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades."

"I'll take point," Glenroy announced, swinging open the gate. "Let's move."

"You stay here, prisoner," Baurus commanded. "Don't try to follow us." I began to protest when the Emperor spoke up.

"Don't worry about her. She can come with us." The Redguard looked at him, but didn't reply. We walked through the door, into a musty stone brick room.

"We should find a defensible spot and protect the Emperor until help arrives," the lead Blade said.

"Help? What makes you think help will get here before more of those bastards?" Baurus glared at Glenroy. "We need to get the Emperor out of here."

"Here they come again!" I screeched, whipping out the captain's sword. A Mythic Dawn agent sprang down from the ledge, and I broke his neck with my magic. Another was roasted alive as a gout of arcane fire melted his skin from his bones.

"We should kill her," Glenroy commented. "She might be in league with the assassins." I tried to deny it when the Emperor began to speak.

"No. She is not one of them. She can help us. She  _must_  help us." The Redguard looked at him.

"As you wish, sire."

"Come closer," the Emperor said to me. "They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I've seen. How can I explain? Listen. You know the Nine? How they guide our fates with an invisible hand?"

"Of course. The Nine guide and protect us."

"I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks, each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well, and I wonder... which stars marked your birth?"

"I was born under the sign of the Mage," I told the Emperor.

"The signs  _I_ read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come." He let out a defeated sigh.

"What about me?"

"Your stars are not mine."

"Can you see my future?" I asked, hoping he'd say something about my family and Skyrim.

"My dreams grant me no opinions of success. Their compass ventures not beyond the doors of death. But in your face... I behold the sun's companion. The dawn of Akatosh's bright glory may banish the coming darkness. With such hope, and with the promise of your aid, my heart must be satisfied." I couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto my face. Nobody had ever said anything like that about me before.

"Aren't... aren't you afraid to die?"

"No trophies of my triumphs precede me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour."

That struck a pang into my heart. I'd constantly thought about my death, how it would come about, and the inevitability always made me fearful of each passing day. My sister (and every other person in Solitude) called me more paranoid than Denervin, the town lunatic. Uriel drew me back from my thoughts. "In this, I am blessed to see the hour of my death... to face my apportioned fate... then fall."

"Where are we going?"

"I go to my grave. A tongue shriller than all the music calls me. You shall follow me for yet a while, then we must part." We walked through two more rooms when I had a bad feeling. I prepared a lightning spell and shot it at the first assassin that appeared. The second was slain by Glenroy, and the others died as I cut their throats open.

The next hallway also contained Mythic Dawn assassins, and I felt my energy stores draining slowly. "I don't like the looks of this. Stand back, sire." Glenroy walked ahead and tried a door. "Dammit! The gate is barred from the other side! A trap!" I jumped as an arrow whooshed past my head. Baurus was faster, killing the assassins with ease. If my magicka hadn't been so drained, I could have easily melted through the iron gates.

"What about that side passage back there?"

"Worth a try," Glenroy decided. "Let's go." They walked into the room and looked around.

"It's a dead end. What's your call, sir?"

"I don't know. I don't see any good options here." A stone clattered, and Glenroy readied his sword. "They're behind us!"

"Wait here with the Emperor," Baurus commanded. "Guard him with your  _life_."  _If I do, I'll only lose mine. He's fated to die._ The Blades stormed out with a battle cry, and Uriel approached me. He unclasped the necklace around his neck and handed it to me. A gleaming ruby was in the middle.

"I can go no further. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings!" I glanced down. "Take the Amulet. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son." Uriel frowned. "Find him... and close shut the jaws of Oblivion." I found myself frozen to the spot with magic as the wall behind the Emperor opened. An assassin leaped out and drove a dagger into Uriel's back, destroying the last bit of life in the elderly ruler. I cried out in anger and broke free of the enchantment.

Sparks flew from my hands as I killed the Mythic Dawn member, electrocuting him. His screams were delicious, and I laughed maniacally. Baurus ran through the entrance holding both his and Glenroy's swords and stared at the Emperor's body in horror. "We've failed... I've failed... The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead." He checked the body, moving the fabric wildly. "The Amulet! Where's the Amulet of Kings? It's not on the Emperor's body!"

"The Emperor gave it to me."

"Strange," the Redguard muttered. "He saw something in you. Trusted you. They say it's the Dragon Blood, that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men. The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that's just jewelry. The Amulet has power. Only a true heir of the Blood can wear it, they say. He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?"

"I must take it to Jauffre."

"Jauffre? He said that? Why?"

"There is another heir."

"Nothing I ever heard about," Baurus admitted. "But Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the Grandmaster of my Order. Although you may not think so to meet him, he lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol."

"How do I get there?"

"First you need to get out of here. Through that gate must be the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. That's where we were heading. It's a secret way out of the Imperial City. Or, at least it was supposed to be secret. Here." The Blade shoved a bronze key into my hand. "You'll need this key for the last door into the sewers."

"The sewers?"

"There are rats and goblins down there... but from what I've seen of you, I'm guessing that you must be an experienced spellsword. Am I right?"

"A mage."

"I wasn't far off. In any case, rats and goblins won't give you any trouble."

"After the sewers, then what?"

"You must get the Amulet to Jauffre. Take no chances, but proceed to Weynon Priory  _immediately_. Got it?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. Then the Emperor's trust was well-placed."

"What about you?" I queried. "What will you do?"

"I'll stay here to guard the Emperor's body, and make sure no one follows you. You'd better get moving. May Talos guide you. By the way, thanks for recovering Captain Renault's sword. I'll see that it's given a place of honor in the halls of the Blades." I handed over the captain's sword, knowing that I would never use it anyways and hopped through the secret passageway where the assassin had come through, praying to the gods that I was doing the right thing by helping the Blades.

...

The sewers were easy to get through. My magicka had mostly returned, and I put it to good use. The goblins and rats were no trouble whatsoever. Before I exited, I made sure to revise everything that I'd done to ensure I hadn't harmed the timeline.  _Yep,_  I thought, opening the sewer grate,  _I definitely screwed up the timeline._

...

I had no trouble finding Weynon Priory, or Jauffre. He was a bit hostile at first, but quickly became amiable when I described my situation. He and the other monks assisted me, and I was pointed in the direction of Martin. It was after I traveled to Kvatch that I realized I'd landed in deep shit.

"Son of a bitch," I whispered, staring at the great Oblivion Gate to Mehrunes Dagon's realm. Beasts were pouring out of it, and I obliterated them all by turning them against each other with a spell. It was fun, I'll admit. I ran inside Kvatch, coughing as smoke assailed my throat.  _Martin's a priest... he's got to be in the chapel._  I avoided the scamps and ran inside. Martin didn't believe my story, but promised that he'd come with me if I managed to close the gate. I agreed, but as I walked away, repeated my new favorite saying. "Son of a bitch..."

...

The Oblivion Gate was hell to close-- no pun intended. The sky was red, and most of the creatures there were resistant to my magic. I removed the Sigil Stone, which closed the entire portal down. Martin happily followed me and went with Jauffre. I didn't stay long and immediately left.  _Sure, I closed the Gate... but any fool could have done that._

I wandered around Cyrodil for several days, and I found myself missing my family with each and every breath. Eventually, I heard a rumor-- a strange statue had appeared in Niben Bay.  _I should go see it. The last thing I want to do is hang out around here and change events I shouldn't._  I trekked across Cyrodil to Bravil, and I saw the structure that was being spoken about. I held myself above the water with magic and floated towards the island.

Voices murmured nearby, and I once again wondered where I was.I climbed over more stones, towards an odd glow. A guard clad in light chainmail with the insignia of a stag on the front stood near a Khajiit woman, who was muttering nonsense. A blue glow illuminated their faces.

"Here comes another one!" the guard shouted, raising his shield. A Dunmer male stumbled out of the glowing light.

"It's not right! Madness! Why? Why? Everything is wrong! It can't be done! Stay away from me!" He looked around frantically. "I won't go back! You can't make me go back! I'll kill you all! You're all going to die!" He drew an iron dagger and swung it at the guard, who responded by sinking his own blade into the Dark Elf's chest.  _What the hell happened to that Dark Elf?!_

The island rumbled and a piercingly loud voice emanated from it. I reeled backwards and covered my ears. "Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy! Useless mortal meat! Walking bag of dung!" He-- I assumed the voice was a he-- paused, as if deliberating something. "A nice effort, though," the voice purred, and I was shocked by the sudden change in tone. "A shame he's dead. These things happen." I held in a chuckle at how the voice nonchalantly discussed the madman. He regained his sharper edge. "Brrrring me a champion! Rrrrend the flesh of my foes! A mortal champion to wade through the entrails of my enemies!" This time, I could not hide my amusement.

The guard looked at me. "I'd stay back from that door if I were you. Nothing that's gone in has come out right." I glanced up.  _It's a door?_  The glow came from a brilliant light in the center of the statue.

"Really, do come in," the voice intoned again, startling both the guard and me. The Khajiit woman seemed unperturbed by it, even pricking her ears to listen. "It's lovely in the Isles right now. Perfect for a visit." It faded, and I stepped closer, intrigued. The guard behind me gave a warning, but made no move to stop me. The light drew me in like a moth to a flame-- and I wondered if that would be an ironically correct analogy. With slow, deliberate movements, I entered the light.

...

I shut my eyes, nearly blinded by the brilliance of the shining glare. It suddenly grew darker, and I cracked them open to see an oddly-dressed man with a bored expression on his face, as though it was a natural occurrence to see a woman emerge from a door made of light.

"Another mortal. Quaint," he remarked. "Let's be civil, shall we? Please have a seat." I glanced down at the chair across from him and hesitantly sat down. "Yes? What can I do for you? I imagine you're here about the door?"

"This... door is a bit strange."

"Yes, you have entered, and now you are here. Amazing, truly." Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and I curled my hands into fists.

"What is this place?" I asked with forced politeness.

"You approach the Shivering Isles," the strange man replied. "Through the door behind me lies the realm of Sheogorath, Prince of Madness, Lord of the Never-There."  _Sheogorath? God dammit... I've gone and gotten involved with a Daedric Prince? If my parents have taught me anything, it's that you should_ never _mess with a Daedric Prince._

"Well, who are you?"

"I am Haskill," he responded, "chamberlain to the Lord Sheogorath."

"And the people outside?"

"They entered this Realm, and were ill-prepared. Their minds are now the property of my Lord."

"How can they be cured?"

"Cured? You speak as if they are diseased. They now live in another state of being." Haskill snorted. "Perhaps it is you who needs a cure." I gritted my teeth in irritation and rubbed my temples.

"Well, what do you want with me?"

"Why do you believe I have summoned you? No, you came of your own free will. But for you... I do not know. My Lord seeks a mortal to act as his Champion. As for His intent... to attempt to fathom it is a foolish endeavor." Haskill looked me in the eye. "His will is His own; His reality follows suit. You are here because you chose to enter, you were not summoned, as I previously stated."

"What happens now?" I inquired, genuinely curious.

"You do as you will," the chamberlain answered idly. "You may leave the way you entered. Your life will be none the worse for your time spent here." He sounded mildly impressed. A sly smile crept onto his face. "Or, you may continue onward, through the door behind me. If you can pass through the Gates of Madness, perhaps the Lord Sheogorath will find a use for you."

"And if I go through the door?"

"Who is to say? There are always choices to be made. The Realm of Madness is no different in that regard. Your choices are your own." Haskill's tone took a snooty turn. "Enter or do not, but make your decision. I have other duties to which I must attend. Speak to me again when you have made up your mind. The anticipation is almost too much to bear," he drawled.

I hesitated and thought about it. Would spending time in a Daedric Lord's realm be all that bad? It's not as if it was Mehrunes Dagon's land. Besides, I didn't want to screw around with Cyrodil's history. What happened in the Shivering Isles wouldn't affect my future. Perhaps I could even convince Sheogorath to send me back to my time. "Well? Have you made up your mind? The tension is almost palpable."

"I'll do it."

"Fine. I'm sure my Lord will be most pleased, assuming you ever manage to see Him. You'll want to pass through the Gates of Madness. Oh, and mind the Gatekeeper. He dislikes strangers to the Realm. Enjoy your stay. One more thing... if you ever make it past the Fringe, you might want to change your attire. It's rather... odd."

"That's something to say," I growled. "If your outfit is anything to go by, I sure won't look out of place." Haskill ignored me, standing up and walking away. I expected him to open the door-- but instead, the walls vanished into a cloud of butterflies. The sky was gorgeous at dusk, hints of violet streaking across the sky. Entire galaxies could be seen, swirling around in a fantastic formation.

...

When I reached the town, the name of which I learned was Passwall, I was just about dead on my feet. Exhaustion took over me, and I headed to the sign of a moon and stars, indicating an inn. When I entered, a tired-looking Wood Elf smiled at me.

"Hello, I'm Dredhwen. No one was running this place when I got here. They left plenty of things behind, though. What do you need?"

"Er... a bed for the night."

"Go ahead," she yawned. "First door on the right."

"But don't you need payment?"

"No need... that's fine."  _You need money to make a profit, "Dredhwen"._ I didn't question her hospitality and went upstairs to sleep.

...

_"You'll never achieve anything."_

_"How could you turn out to be such a disappointment when your parents are heroes?"_

_"You're a disgrace to all races."_

...

I slowly propped myself up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Though my dreams had been unpleasant memories, I'd woken rested enough to get on with my day. I went downstairs to Dredhwen to see if I could get breakfast. I munched on bread and asked her about the Gates of Madness.

"I feel like I need to be on the other side," she replied. "I'm just not sure how to get in."

"What about the... um, the Gatekeeper?" Dredhwen's face hardened a bit.

"He protects the Gates of Madness. He'll kill anyone who tries to get near. He's about to destroy some adventurers up there now." I swallowed the last of my bread and stood up.

"Thanks." I ran out the door, hoping that the adventurers would kill the Gatekeeper so I wouldn't have to. Hey, I may be an experienced mage, but I can be lazy as hell. But as soon as I climbed the steps, I knew that they were screwed. A giant  _thing_  whose skin was sewn together, strange runes on its body and a sword for an arm was running about, slaughtering the adventurers. I shook with trepidation.

I turned around to see a Redguard in strange puffy red clothes, and I grudgingly realized that what Haskill had said was true. "Hello, I'm Shelden. I've been here the longest, so that's why I'm the mayor of Passwall."  _I wonder if he named this town... huh._ "That, and because I'm the best at being in charge. Welcome to my town!"  _Rather arrogant, aren't we?_

"What was with that Gatekeeper?"

"He guards the Gates of Madness. Don't get too close to him," Shelden advised. "He'll kill you, and it will leave a mess in my town. Jayred Ice-Veins wants to kill the Gatekeeper. Sounds like suicide to me."

"Where is he?"

"Right over there. That man is crazy."  _Yeah... can't be worse than you._

"Jayred?" I approached the fur-clad Nord, who gave me a bright smile-- if a bit unsettling.

"I'm Jayred Ice-Veins. Do you ever wonder why things look better without their skin on?"

"Only all the time," I sneered sarcastically. He didn't seem to notice the edge in my voice and continued.

"For instance, you can only really see the bones when you take them out. You can  _hear_ them better that way, too."

"Er... great. So, I heard you want to kill the Gatekeeper?" A look of concentration appeared on the Nord's face.

"I want him dead. I need him dead!" he said forcefully. "His bones are calling to me. Rumor has it you want him dead, too..."

"Where the hell did you hear that rumor?"

"I can hear it in your bones..." Jayred whispered eerily. "If you're any good with a lockpick, we can help each other out. We can get into the Gardens of Flesh and Bone."

"The Gardens of Flesh and Bone? What the hell is that?"

"They say the Gatekeeper's magical. I don't believe in magic."  _Is he serious?_  "But I do believe in bones. And the best way to kill something is with the bones of its own. I can see the bones of a dead Gatekeeper in the courtyard of the Gardens. The door's locked, though."

"And you want me because...?"

"You pick the lock, and I'll collect the bones. Then I'll make some arrows, and we'll kill the Gatekeeper. Sound good?"

"Er... lead on."

"Here, take this lockpick. Be careful, it's the only one I've got. You open the door, I'll kill things." He rubbed his hands together in glee. "Let's go!" He ran off, faster than I'd seen anyone run before. Soon enough, we came to the Gardens. "Hurry up and pick the lock! I can hear them in there!"

"By the Nine," I muttered under my breath. "Screw your lockpick." I cast a spell on the lock and heard its tumblers shifting until it clicked open.  _Yeah, don't believe in magic._ Inside were several bone creatures that sent shivers up my spine-- again, no pun intended. I blasted them with gouts of fire, easily disposing of them. Jayred giggled maniacally as he searched the skeleton and ripped off parts of its bones.

"Here we are... from these Gatekeeper bones, I can make some arrows."

"When will these 'bone arrows' be ready?"

"Find me in a few hours. Then we'll kill the Gatekeeper."

...

I approached Jayred's house after some time and went inside. He fixed me with an odd stare and said, "Do the bones talk to you too?"

"Uh... the-- the bone arrows. Are they..."

"The bone arrows are ready. Here are some for you, and I'll keep some."

"No, that's okay. I don't really deal with bows, but I have my spells." Jayred snorted contemptuously at me.

"Pff... magic. But let's go kill the Gatekeeper. We might die, but there are worse things." My heart thudded in my chest. If my life was on the line for a chance to speak with a Daedric Lord... well, then I'd have to fight like hell, wouldn't I?"

...

The Gatekeeper stood ahead, and I prepared a bolt of lightning in my palms. Jayred ran forward and began shooting at the fleshy beast while I blasted him with magic. Jayred seemed surprised when the arrows did little damage-- but my magic was quite powerful. The Gatekeeper fell dead, and I wondered what the fuss was about.

"The Gatekeeper is slain. Congratulations. The honor of taking the keys from the Gatekeeper's corpse is yours." Two strange-looking keys were sticking out of the poorly sewn flesh of the Gatekeeper, and I groaned in disgust as I lifted them out.  _If that's your idea of gratitude..._ I looked at both of the passageways and deliberated which to choose.

"So, you've managed to kill the Gatekeeper." I whirled around to see Haskill. "Pity. Well, now you'll be able to enter the Realm proper. You'll notice there are two doors. One leads to the lands of Mania. The other to Dementia."  _What the hell...?_ "The lands are quite distinct, but both are Sheogorath's domain. You'll want to seek out Lord Sheogorath. I believe He has plans for you. Try not to disappoint Him."

"What's Dementia like?" I inquired.

"The lands of Dementia reflect the darker side of its residents. It is easy to get lost among the tangle of roots growing out of the ground. If you wish to meet Dementia's citizens, seek them out in Deepwallow or Fellmoor. I'm sure they'll welcome one such as you with open arms." His tone was quite sarcastic, and I glared at him.

"Well, someone's got a stick up their ass. Aside from Dementia, what's with the Gates of Madness?"

"The doorways into the Realm proper. You may enter through either one. Really, it depends on which aspect of the Realm more suits your disposition."  _Well, I'm not exactly 'sunshiny'._ "As I've said, all choices have consequences, but don't trouble yourself too much with your decision. All those that enter the Realm are forever changed, but some believe it is for the better. A good portion of them, at least."

"What's Mania like?"

"The lands of Mania are bright, vibrant, and full of color. You'll find its inhabitants reflect the land itself. If you ever wish to meet the residents of Mania, you'll find them in the settlements of Hale and Highcross. Though the citizens and creatures of Mania are colorful, they can also be quite deadly. I'm sure you can handle it though." The way he said it made me believe he was once again being facetious.

"Who exactly is Sheogorath? I know he's the Daedric Prince of Madness, but what else do you know?"

"As you said, the Prince of Madness. The ruler of the Shivering Isles. It is by His will that we exist in this place. He is our Lord and Master. You'll want to speak with Him soon, as I believe He has plans for you. You will find Him in New Sheoth, in His palace. It is best not to make Lord Sheogorath wait. His whims are fleeting, and should He decide you are no longer necessary, it would be to your detriment."

"You mentioned New Sheoth. What's that?"

"Full of questions, aren't we? It is, of course, the capital of the Shivering Isles. It is divided into Bliss, Crucible, and the Palace districts." I thought about everything he'd said.

"I want to know more about the Shivering Isles." It was clear that Haskill was tiring of my questions, but screw him. He said he'd help, and I'll be damned if I wouldn't glean every bit of information from him.

"You will enter soon, I imagine, through the Gates of Madness and into the lands of Mania and Dementia. It is the Realm of Lord Sheogorath. It is what He wills it to be. The trees bloom according to His whim, and the wind blows at His command. Tread lightly in the Isles, Regina."

"How do you know my name?!"

"It is not a place suited to  _all_  mortals. But, I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Answer me, you bloody--" Haskill vanished, only leaving a trace of his sardonic voice:

"If only we could speak more often."

"Why, that would be absolutely  _great_ , Haskill," I growled, heading into the first pathway-- into the land of Mania. As soon as I unlocked the door, I was hit by a great blast of magic, and felt the flow of a new power: the Blessing of Mania. The colors hit me, and I found myself disturbed by the extremity of the world's color palate. I shut the door and chose Dementia, which was more suited to my taste. Dark, twisted, and completely underrated.

I pulled out the book that I'd taken from the desk back near the Strange Door's exit. Inside was a map, and I realized the distance to New Sheoth was pretty damn far. I sighed and began to walk, irritated. My footsteps clacked on the stone pathway, and I opted to take the shortcut and instead walk across the land, forgoing the path.

Something moved in the distance, and as soon as I took a step forwards, it sprang at me. It looked like a huge ant with a massive yellow abdomen. "Holy hell! What on all of Tamriel is this thing?!" I burned it alive with a stream of fire and tried to stop my heart from pounding. I checked the book. "That was an Elytra Hatchling... what the hell... Skyrim's massive spiders were bad. But this? Son of a bitch..."

...

I walked in the forest and ran into a vaguely tadpole-like creature, which chased me on surprisingly quick feet. I used my cold touch on it and checked the book-- it was a Baliwog.  _There is no way in hell I want to deal with any of those assholes._ I moved back to the pathway and killed yet another Baliwog-- a young one from the looks of it.

Later on, I ran into a creature similar in appearance to the Baliwog, though its differences included that it stood on its hind legs and used weapons. After I slayed it, I identified it as a Grummite. When I walked on, another Baliwog attacked. "These things... Sheogorath has a sick sense of humor."

I heard barking and wondered if he'd allowed dogs-- and was forced down by a dog with the skin torn off. I didn't need the book to know that this abomination was a Skinned Hound. It snapped its slavering jaws at my throat, and I tried blasting it with flames. It whined, but continued to bark and bite. I summoned a wraith, something I'd learned from mother's dragon Durnehviir. It tore the hound off and ripped its heart out, killing it. I panted, fatigued. Eventually I stood up and wracked my brain for a spell that might help me travel faster without using too much magicka.

"Of course!" The cost was high, but it wouldn't drain me. I summoned another creature-- Arvak. The skeletal horse pawed at the ground, and I jumped on its bony back. I winced, but dug my heels into his hindquarters. Arvak neighed and galloped forwards, allowing me a moment of rest while my magicka regenerated.

...

The first city I came upon was Bliss. I saw a Wood Elf in white clothing and approached her.

"Have you caught my act yet?" She grinned brightly.

"I'm sorry, what?" I was taken aback by her question. What 'act'?

"I'm Thaedil, the juggler. I'm sure you've heard of me. Oh, who am I kidding? You probably came to scoff at the worst juggler in the world."

"I'm sure you're not that bad," I reassured her, looking around.

"Are you from Crucible? You look like you belong there."

"No. I'm from a different land." I realized how out-of-place I looked. "Is there anywhere I can get fresh clothing?"

"Over there's a shop. She sells clothes."

"Thanks." I headed inside the shop, where a Dark Elf woman wearing a hideous bright purple dress greeted me warmly.

"Hello! What can I do for you?"

"Er... what clothes do you have?" She displayed an array of dresses, all of which looked ridiculous. I had a ruby in my pocket, so I offered that up as payment for the black regalia. I pulled it over my head and took off my other dress. Despite my original dislike, the black dress fit well and looked nice. I smiled and walked out of the shop. Golden guards walked around, hardly giving me a second glance.

...

The outside of the New Sheoth Palace was beautiful. I had to repeatedly tell myself to snap out of my admiration. There were four doors, two of which held guards. One of them was another golden guard, which I learned was called a Golden Saint, and the other a Dark Seducer. I had to admit that the Dark Seducer applied more to my personality. I walked into the door and kept my gaze down. If Sheogorath was hostile, I didn't want to provoke him. My heart beat quickly as I descended the stairs onto a bicolored rug. The sound of slow clapping drew my attention, and when I looked up, I found I couldn't turn my gaze away.

His face was finely chiseled. A shapely beard covered his chin, and his bright golden eyes seemed to hold me in their depths. He was handsome, and that very fact made him more dangerous than anything else could make him.


	6. A Better Mousetrap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I lied. This will not take the same questline as the original quest, I'll be altering a lot. Don't get me wrong, many things will remain the same, but I'll still have my own unique twist on it.
> 
>  
> 
> ...

 

 

I was lost in the Daedric Prince's gaze until Haskill let out a sharp cough. I shook my head. "Er... forgive me, Lord Sheogorath."

"All is forgiven... unless it's not! What if it's not? Ooh, then it's trouble for Haskill. He'll have to take care of the pesky details of removing your brain." I cracked a smile, despite the insanity of his words. Here I was, standing before Sheogorath who would just as soon kill me as help, ignoring the brutality of his speech. "A new arrival! A shame about my Gatekeeper. I'm so happy I could just... rip out your entrails and strangle you with them!

"I suppose an introduction is in order. I'm Sheogorath, Prince of Madness." He tapped his chin. "And other things. I'm not talking about them. You've probably figured that out by now. Let's hope so. Or out come the intestines... and I skip rope with them!" Sheogorath laughed deeply. "But perhaps now's not the time. You've made it this far. Farther than anyone else. Well done!" At this point, his swiftly changing demeanor was confusing me. "Take this trinket of mine. Perhaps it will serve you well. Or look lovely on your corpse." The Daedric Prince didn't move, but a light weight on my neck told me that he'd placed an enchanted necklace around it.

"Oh. My name is--"

"Regina, yes, yes. Hasky told me aaall about you!" I shot a glance towards Haskill, who sighed in slight irritation.

"Um, I just wanted to ask you something."

"Out with it!"

"What do you want?"

"I've been waiting for you! Or, someone like you. Or someone other than you, for some time. I need a champion, and you've got the job. Time to save the Realm! Rrrrescue the damsel! Slaaaay the beast! Or die trying. Your help is required." His jovial expression shifted to one of distaste. "A change is coming. Everything changes. Even Daedric Princes.  _Especially_ Daedric Princes."

"Changes?"

"Daedra are the embodiment of change!" he rumbled, his strange accent sounding musical. "Change... and permanency. I'm no different, except in the ways that I am." I chuckled, and Sheogorath tipped his head curiously. "What do you find funny?"

"Never mind. You're the most interesting person..." I went with it. "I've ever met." His face softened.

"Really? I think that's a compliment. Is it a compliment, Haskill? If it isn't, then I'm going to be quite sad. But not when I rip off her arms. That'll be fun." He frowned. "The Grrreymarch is coming. And  _you're_  going to stop it."

"The Greymarch?" I queried. "What's the Greymarch?"

"The details aren't important. At least not right now. Eternity is on a rather tight deadline. We'll get back to that later. The Greymarch is coming. It could come tomorrow, or in another hundred years! It all depends."

"What now?"

"Now? You run an errand for me. An important one. Of course, anything I tell you is important. My Realm, my rules. You're going to Xedilian, one of my favorite spots in the Isles! It's a little place I use to take care of unwanted visitors. And some are more unwanted than others." I hoped that his tone wasn't directed at me. If it was-- then I was screwed.

"Why Xedilian?" I tried changing the topic off my unwanted-ness. I should have been used to being unwanted, but I'd allowed myself to get my hopes up that I might be somebody of worth.

"The Gatekeeper takes care of most of the unwanted, but he's dead. We'll have to remedy that soon, as well..." Sheogorath cleared his throat. "Anyway, there are others who have other ways into my Realm, and they're on the move. We don't want them here. Trust me." His voice, which had become low, suddenly pitched back up. "So, you're going to get Xedilian up and running. Here's a little book to tell you how, and the Attenuator of Judgement. You'll need that, too."

A book materialized out of thin air, and he handed it to me. "Of course, you can always get more details from Haskill. He's a detail-oriented person. A big help. And a snappy dresser. Now, get going. Before I change my mind... or my mind changes me." His attention wandered elsewhere, and I knew I wasn't going to get any further. I approached Haskill.

"The Madgod has given you a task," he drawled. "Surely someone of your copious talent should be able to handle it."

"I want to know more about Xedilian."

"Yes, quite an amazing place, really. Wonderful for relieving one's tension as you watch those troublesome adventurers suffer. No offense. I'd say your next move is to head to Xedilian and get it reactivated."

"Yeah... what's the deal with that?"

"Yes? Ah, silly me... the book has no pictures. Can't really expect you to read that, now can I?"

"Shut up, asshole," I snarled. "I spent my life reading books. I thought I'd find you valuable, but if you're just going to bitch about how stupid I supposedly am, then--"

"Do calm down. To reactivate Xedilian for my Lord's pleasure, you'll need to find three Focus Crystals and return them to their resting place. Each crystal has a matching receptacle called a Judgement Nexus. Even you can't miss them. Without the crystals in place, the Resonator of Judgement, Xedilian's power source, cannot be restored." I walked away from him with an angry huff. "Enlightening, as always."

"I'm going to rip you apart."

"Ooh, don't do that, Regina." Sheogorath's voice echoed around the room, which hardly made sense given the clutter. But he wouldn't be the Madgod if he made sense. "Haskill means well, even if he's about to kill you. And he's smart. He's got more brains than a brain pie." He snapped his fingers. "That's it! I was planning a meal... brain pie! Care to donate?" I felt that was a dismissal. I left the room.

 

...

 

I wandered to the Bliss smith and asked him if he had any cheap armor. Unfortunately, all he had was a dull pair of amber armor. He spoke like a little girl, and I offered him several gemstones plucked from my old dress in exchange. The armor felt weird when I slipped it on, but I soon grew used to it and headed out the door.

 

...

 

From the map, I gathered that Xedilian was in the southeast quadrant of the Shivering Isles. I summoned Arvak and hopped aboard, the armor I wore now protecting me from his sharp bones. The skeletal horse was a swift steed, and I thanked the gods-- though here, only one god mattered-- that I had a horse. I managed to outrun a Grummite and tree-thing before reaching what I presumed to be Xedilian. A Grummite stood outside, and I prepared a flare spell in my right hand. When I threw it at the Grummite, it blasted him backwards. He hit the stone wall with a dull thwack, and I heard his spine crack.

When I went inside, I was greeted with a twisted metal door and a large button to the side of it. A sad face was carved into it, while its eyes and teeth glowed. I cautiously pressed the button, and the door swung open. I looked around to see that on the other side, an angry face button was placed to my left. I slayed the two Grummites in the next room with ease, blasting them back with a spark spell. The door was easy to open, as it held the same face mechanics as the one prior.

Up ahead, more Grummites were stationed. I took out the first two easily enough, but the shaman was proving to be a bitch to kill. The staff it held-- with the focus crystal on the top, no doubt-- continued to shock me, making movement difficult. Finally, I was able to drive an ice spike into its disgusting amphibious heart and take the crystal. A structure I presumed to be the Judgement Nexus stood by, and I placed the crystal in the Nexus. It began to float, raised up by a beam of water-like light, and I pressed onwards.

Two Grummites were in the next room. I noticed one waving his arms over the fire, and I sensed the magic from the top of the stairs. I wanted to pick him off before I was noticed, before he could set up a ward. I took them out and groaned when I realized that neither had a crystal. Up ahead was a statue of Sheogorath and two metal doors, neither of which would open. There was a button underneath the statue, so I pressed it-- and felt the ground disappear underneath my feet. At the last second, I sent my magicka to catch me. If I hadn't, I surely would have broken a few bones.

A few Grummites and skeletons were at the bottom, and I stepped over their broken bodies with a sense of satisfaction. The next rooms held three Grummites. This time, I was prepared, and shocked the Grummite Shaman through the gates. It was flung back, its heart still. The other two were also easy pickings. I placed the Focus Crystal into the Nexus. I was starting to become confident and strolled into the next hallway-- and came face-to-face with an ugly Grummite Beater. It snarled, spittle landing on my cheek. The surprise wore off, and I destroyed it by turning its insides out.

The next room had nothing useful, but the room after that had the third Nexus. This time, it appeared that the Grummites were waiting for me. They leaped on top of me, and my magicka drained away. _Shit... they Silenced my magic._  I was now at their unlikely mercy, with no weapons to defend myself.

An unseen force drove the Grummites from me, killing them instantly. I looked around in consternation until a familiar voice spoke up,echoing around the cavern.

"You've come this far, it'd be a hassle to find someone else. Go on, put in the third crystal." I found myself nodding and retrieved the final Focus Crystal, placing it into its perch.

I walked on, opening a door and waiting until my magic returned so I could kill the two Grummites. Three more stood in my path before I could face what I knew was the Resonator of Judgement. I hit it with the tuning fork and listened as it made a melodic sound. The top of the grand crystal shifted and lifted up, revealing a violet glow. Behind me, a door opened, and a face on the floor glowed.  _Is that a...?_  Stepping on it confirmed my suspicions. The burn of teleportation hit me.

...

"Finally! Lord Sheogorath has sent someone to assist me!" A Dark Elf in crimson robes smiled at me brightly, if not a bit crazily. Did I expect something else? Not really.

"What...?"

"But where are my manners? Must get into my professional tone... ahem! Welcome to Xedilian. I'm the dungeon caretaker, Kiliban Nyrandil."

"Tell me about this place."

"A wonder of engineering, is it not? Xedilian is the ultimate test of mettle for the foolhardy adventurer that dares trespass into the Shivering Isles."

"Y-you mean me? I came here because Lord Sheogorath told me to. I'm no trespasser."

"I know that. I meant  _other_  people. You'll see. But what they don't know is that they're being drawn to their doom, courtesy of the Resonator of Judgement." I tipped my head, intrigued.

"Interesting. Tell me more."

"Ever since that wretched Gatekeeper was made, Xedilian became redundant. It fell into disrepair and was all but forgotten. After only a few years passed, the Grummites began moving in. Wretched things!" he spat, and after facing an entire next of the buggers, I most definitely agreed with him. "They mistook the Focus Crystals for some sort of religious symbols, and removed them from their rightful places. This rendered the Resonator inert and Xedilian completely useless. Luckily, you came along and placed Xedilian back into operation."

"Okay, that's enough." I glanced around the room. "How do I get out of here?"

"Yes, yes. I tend to ramble, you'll have to forgive me. If you have the Attenuator, Sheogorath must have sent you."

"I already made that clear."

"Did you? Ah, silly me!! Indeed you did. Xedilian normally would have sent  you back to the entrance when you stepped on the pad in the Resonator Chamber. Since you're up here, I can only surmise that adventurers are traveling up here as we speak."

"What should we do?"

"The only thing we  _can_  do is let the adventurers complete a cycle through here. I'll be glad to help. I assume Sheogorath gave you the manual of Xedilian. You can consult it for more information, or I can provide instructions."

"You mentioned chambers..."

"Ah, yes. I will be happy to explain the event that unfolds as we proceed through Xedilian. This is the  Chamber of the Gnarl."

"That's enough." I'd grown tired of him, hearing the adventurers make their way to the chamber. "I'll make my choice." The Manual said that the left button released a swarm of  Gnarls-- the tree-creature I'd encountered earlier. The one to my right made them insane, believing that a giant Gnarl that had once been so tiny meant to kill them.

I stretched my hand towards the one on the right, to drive them insane. They hadn't done anything to me, so they could go batshit crazy.

"What in Oblivion is that thing?" the Orc male laughed. I drew my hand back.

"This is one of the "horrid guardians" of which the stories spoke?"

"Be careful," the mage warned. "There may be more to this creature than meets the eye."

"What a joke!" the  Orc scoffed. "Let's be rid of this thing and be on our way."  _Underrated. Despised. Thought to be less than what it is. Like me._ My arm shot out and slammed the left button, almost violently. I enjoyed what panned out, as more tiny Gnarls swarmed over the adventurers. The rogue fell dead soon, but the Altmer mage and Orc killed the rest.  _Such a pity._

"It's not over," Kiliban announced. Come, to the next room." The teleportation pad led me to a room where a great pile of treasure sat underneath a cage.

"Look! Haha! I told you! Treasure! Let's have at it, Syndelius." The buttons clicked, and I knew that they were ready. The ones on the right seemed to have an insane quality, and the left more deadly. "Can't you just wizard it open?"  _You're quite the idiot, aren't you?_

"Grummok! Be careful! This looks too good to be true." 

"If only Lewin were here... he could get this open in no time." I pressed the button to the right. Behind them, hundreds of keys poured onto the floor.

"Look!! Keys! One of them must open the gate! We're rich!"

"Let's get out of here, Syndelius," Grummok advised the mage. "This is obviously a trick to waste our time!" The Altmer paid him no heed, scrambling through the pile.

"I'll know it when I see it!" Syndelius hissed. "Yes... it must be here!"

"They're all fake!" the Orc rumbled. "Just come with me now!"

"...find it, yes... I must find the key... rich beyond all my dreams... hehehe!"

"Bah!" Grummok waved his hand dismissively. "Suit yourself." I approached Kiliban about the final chamber. There was something I didn't like about Grummok, and I wanted to make him suffer.

"The third chamber of Xedilian is the Chamber of Anethema. Its contents are designed to make sure it's the final encounter. The adventurers will be subject to horrors  beyond their imagination... visions of repugnance, death, and malevolence reside in this room." Kiliban must have noticed the angry look on my face and smiled creepily. "If you wish to cause ruin to your victims, you may choose to animate some of the corpses and watch as they satiate their hunger. The other is an illusion... but I presume you're feeling a bit bloodthirsty." 

"Steady, Grummok... Steady. You've been through worse before."  _Oh, I doubt it._  "What more could this place possibly throw at you?" I didn't say a word, only walked over and hit the left switch. "What?! The very dead rise in this accursed place? Very well, you'll not slay me without a fight! Have at you!" Within seconds, Grummok was dead. 

"You've made short work of the intruders. Sheogorath should be proud to have such an efficient apprentice." I puffed my chest out in pride and followed the Dunmer onto the last teleportation pad.   
"As is the tradition, you are to be awarded with a Focus Crystal as a token of your fine work. I'll have it sent to the palace and placed in the main hall, if you wish to look at it. Oh, and it seems a most unusual weapon was retrieved from the Orc warrior, Grummok. Never seen anything like it, but perhaps his journal can give you some useful information."

From Grummok's journal, I learned that this was a very unique weapon, changing with each passing day. While I wasn't much of a blade person, using this, I felt powerful.  _Who knows,_ I thought wryly,  _maybe Baurus was right in guessing I'd be a spellsword._

When I returned to Sheogorath, I hoped that the excited spark in his eye wasn't just an illusion created by my desperate mind.


	7. Home

 

The spark was gone as soon as it had appeared, leaving me unsure if I'd seen it at all. Sheogorath laid his staff against his legs and grinned.

"Well now, what news do you have to report? What about Xedilian? Since you're standing here, I assume you've succeeded." His smile turned into a scowl. "Or you're terribly confused... or really lacking in good judgement." I found his capricious moods alluring.  _Stop it, Regina,_  I told myself.  _He's a Daedric Prince. Remember what your parents had to go through? Don't mess with Daedric Princes..._  "Are you listening to me, mortal?"

"Oh, yes. Xedilian functions once more."

"I trust you enjoyed the activities?"

"I did." I recalled the impressive methods that Xedilian's builders had come up with. "It was quite amusing, I'll admit."

"Good, good. I'm pleased that I won't have to throw you in there... Yet. But wonderful! Time for a celebration! Cheese for everyone!" Sheogorath paused. "Wait, scratch that. Cheese for no one. That can be just as much of a celebration if you don't like cheese. True? You've run a maze like an adorable little mouse, but no cheese for you yet. Well, maybe a little." He pressed his smooth fingers against my temple, and immediately, I staggered backwards as a new spell was forced into my brain. "I've granted you a new skill-- the ability to summon Haskill, my Chamberlain, to aid you in your travels. He knows a lot. More than he knows. In fact, give it a try. Summon our friend right now. I'll wait."

I focused on the spell, and Haskill vanished in a cloud of smoke, reappearing by my side.

"Ah, our Lord has granted you the ability to summon me. How wonderful for me. When summoned, I can offer advice on your current endeavor. I imagine it's up to you what to do with my wisdom. " I could almost feel the annoyance burning a hole in my head. "Do try to use your power sparingly. I have duties to which I must attend. Rather more important than shepherding you around, I'm sure." Haskill vanished in purple fog, reappearing at Sheogorath's side.

"Isn't that a hoot?" the Madgod laughed. "I love it, myself. Best part of being a Daedric Prince, really. Go ahead, try it again. He loves it!" I got the distinct feeling that Haskill actually did  _not_ love it, but I swiftly obeyed.

"Ah, summoned again," Haskill grumbled. "My Lord does so enjoy that, as is His prerogative. I'll assume you're done for now."

"Good!" Sheogorath chuckled. "You'll need all the direction you won't need if you're going to stay here in the Isles!" My heart dropped into my stomach.

"My Lord, I--"  _don't want to stay..._  Sheogorath fixed me with a glare, and I amended my words. "--can't stay. I have family elsewhere."

"Well, the portal to Cyrodil's closed, so I suppose you're stuck! We don't have any living situations for you. Stay with Syl. Oh, Syl will love you. And potentially kill you."

"My Lord, I implore you to reconsider." I was surprised to hear concern in Haskill's usually monotonous voice. "Hirrus Clutumnus recently took a... leap of faith from the highest point in the city. Now that he has... deceased, I believe his home should be more than sufficient."

"Very well then, Haskill. So, you'll live in Hummus's house. Well, it's your house now. Unless I change my mind. Or my mind changes me."

"Th-thank you, my Lord."

"You're welcome, Regina." I stared at the Prince, slightly shocked. Though it was a short sentence, it was the first without any hint of chaos or jumbled minds. Even his tone was even. "Get going and get situated. But if I ever call for you-- come  _immediately_. Or else I'll get bored. I don't like being bored. Wait, when I'm bored, I break things. I break walls. I break necks. I break dance." I stifled a giggle and nodded my head in acceptance. "I guess I  _do_  like being bored."

"What would you need me for, if I may be so bold?"  _I'm getting good at speaking to people. I think._

"I dunno. It depends on a lot of things. If I desire your company. If I need to send you out on a dangerous mission to the darkest depths of the Hills of Suicide to find a spoon. If my palace is on fire. You get the point."

"My Lord, if I could have an escort to my new living situation, I'd greatly appreciate it."

"Would you, now? Haskill! Take her to Hubbalub's house. Oh, her house now, I suppose. I keep forgetting. Or stop remembering. One of the two."

"Yes, Sire." The chamberlain walked up the stairs. "Coming, madam?"

"I am." I picked up my skirts and followed the Breton out the palace door, giving one last glance to Sheogorath. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, almost passing too quickly, he had joy in his normal-looking eyes.

...

"Lady Regina, this will be your home from now on." Haskill opened up Hirrus's house and gave me the key. It was cozy, and though a bit unfurnished, it fit my tastes well.

"You mean until I can find out how to open a portal?" I sat down on a chair.

"Oh, no. You're staying here." My gaze shot up to the man, who held a neutral expression. "Lord Sheogorath does not like His visitors leaving. He says He lets them "enjoy longer vacations for eternity". My Lord has quite the mind. He never does change." There was a twinge on the end of his sentence, and I wondered what it could mean.

"He's not exactly unchanging. When we left, his eyes-- they looked, well,  _normal_. Not that he isn't normal. He isn't, but... " I trailed off uncertainly, hoping that the chamberlain wouldn't take it the wrong way and report to Sheogorath. Haskill looked at me, a single eyebrow raised. From what I knew of Haskill, it was a representation of complete shock.

"His eyes, you say? My..."

"What?"

"It is none of your concern. Make yourself at home, mortal, for that is where you are now." Haskill gave me a stiff bow and vanished, leaving me to ponder his last words endlessly.

...


	8. Haskill

**((Haskill's POV))**

I climbed the stairs to His palace, thinking about what the young lady had said.  _My Lord changes every Era. Could this be His transition to Jyggalag once more? But that's impossible. From the prediction of the former librarian, the Era will not end for another year._

"Haskill! Did you bring the Lady Regina to her new home?"

"I did, Lord Sheogorath. Is there anything you require?"

"I don't know. Let me think about it. Or not think about it. Either or." In about three seconds, He cried out in shock. "Haskill!"

"Lord?"

"Don't let Regina leave." He rubbed his hands together, His staff falling to the floor. "No, she must stay here..."

"Why, My Lord? Is she not an irritating chit, as you mentioned when she traveled to Xedilian?"

"Oh, she's an irritating chit." I averted my eyes. "Look at me, Haskill." I obeyed. "Listen to me before I forget myself. Don't tell me what I said. Ever. Unless I don't ask you not to tell me what I didn't say.

"A change of heart changes permanence before. A queen's presence presents new reign. The two do too go to war. A battle of Prince and Chamberlain." Immediately, Sheogorath shut His eyes. "What did I say? Did I say something?"

"Nothing, My Lord."

"I must've been dreamin'. I do that sometimes. Haskill!"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Fetch me cheese. On a monkey's left ear, if you please." I bowed my head respectfully and left His throne room. Sheogorath was changing, that much was certain. From what? That was the question.


	9. A Liquid Solution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I came up with a reason why Hirrus Clutumnus wanted to die. The theory's in this chapter-- and it WILL have an impact on future events.

 

...

**((Regina's POV))**

I sat in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I'd seen hundreds of mirrors in my lifetime. But when I looked in this one, I saw only the flaws in me. My hair was too dark for my pale skin. My eyes were grayer than they were blue. A scar on my lip made me look dark and melancholy. I curled my hands into a fist and shut my eyes, absently throwing a blanket over a mirror.

Before began to attack myself from the hatred I suddenly held, I stormed out of the house. It was raining in Crucible, and I decided that I needed a hot meal.  _An inn would have food,_  I reasoned. Sickly Bernice's Taphouse was the only establishment like an inn, though the name didn't seem very comforting.

I walked inside and looked around, shutting the door behind me. The woman I presumed to be the owner, Bernice, stared at me dully. She had black rings under her eyes, and I could believe the woman's claims to be ill.

"Oh... hello. Sickly Bernice, proprietor. Don't get too close now, you might catch what I have."

"What do you have?"

"I haven't the foggiest clue. But it's a wretched condition. It seems I am dying. Yes, these may be my last days in the Shivering Isles. That is, unless someone like yourself could help me find the cure. But no one has taken me up on my offer, even with the promise of a reward. Ah well, it's been a good life I suppose..."

"That's a shame."

"C-could you help me?" I was taken aback by Sickly Bernice's request. "I need a cure!"

"How am I supposed to cure you? My magic specialty is Destruction, not Restoration. Though I suppose if you died, I could--"

"No, I know the--" Bernice began to cough violently, and I wiped away a drip of spittle that landed on my cheek. "I need aquanostrom. Oh yes... it's the miracle remedy for any disease! I was told about this wonderful solution by a recent patron of my establishment. He said if I let him stay for free, he'd tell me how to cure my sickness! How fortuitous!"

"Ma'am? He was likely trying to trick you. From what I can see, you're actually quite healthy." Unfortunately, the madwoman ignored me.

"Apparently it only exists at the bottom of Knotty Bramble... ah well. So close, yet so far."

"Where's Knotty Bramble? Should any of this make sense to me?"

"Oh, so you'll help me?"

"I never said tha--"

"Thank you!! Here, I'll mark it on a map." She grabbed a map from underneath the counter.

"You don't have to do anything, I--!"

"Here, dear." Sickly Bernice slammed an odd fruit on my map. Juice dripped down the sides of the bar, and a red blotch covered part of the parchment. "I'll reward you handsomely when you return! Thanks so much!"

"I'm not going to help you!" Finally, the taphouse's owner was silent.

"What?"

"You forced this on me. I'm not going out into a land I've never even been to!"

"Oh... very well. You've doomed a frail woman to certain death..." I felt a tug of guilt and anxiety.

"Fine. I'll go," I agreed reluctantly, hoping I wasn't walking to my doom by helping a strange woman.

"You'll need plenty of provisions. Take this. Oh, and this. This as well. You never know if you might die on the way there from hunger. Or a Hunger."  _I didn't get a hot meal like I wanted. I got a dangerous quest and a few pieces of stale bread. Great. If Sheogorath needs me and I'm away, I am screwed._

...

"What the hell is this place?!" I roasted another giant bug alive. It squealed and tipped over, a foul stench rising from the body. It stared ahead blankly, and I wiped away bug blood from my hands, hating the sticky feel. Creatures I identified as Elytra constantly flung themselves at me, and I'd gotten nothing but wounds from the accursed place.

Finally,  _finally,_  after what seemed like years, I reached the inner sanctum. Yet again, I was forced to battle my way through waves of vermin. My magicka was running out. It took a simple flare spell to kill them, but I recuperated too slowly. I scooped up some of the "aquanostrum" from the pool. It was clearly just dirty water that would more likely than not  _cause_  a disease, not cure it.  _Oh well. If this is a miracle cure in the Isles... then who am I to judge?_

"Mortal!" The caverns shook as the Daedric Prince shouted. "Get here! Now! There's a job! Or is it a rug? Bah, I forgot!" The cave stopped shaking, and I sighed in irritation.  _I'm not going to get there in time. I'm dead._  Despite everything, I trudged back through Knotty Bramble, cutting apart the few Elytra I missed.

I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up hopelessly lost. I turned around in a panic. I had no map, and no way to tell where I'd been. Each tunnel looked exactly the same. What was worse was that inside of the wooden walls, I heard the scuttering of insect feet. I had no doubt in my mind that more Elytra lived within the root tunnel.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I whirled around. A massive Elytra loomed over me, snapping its slavering jaws in excitement. I drove my sword into its chest, ignoring the green blood that slid down the blade. It gurgled as it died, disgusting goop dripping from its maw. My hair was a mess, and I had more scratches from the beasts than I cared to count.  _At least I haven't been bitten. The poison on those jaws looks lethal._

Knock on wood.

As soon as I turned back towards my original path, three Elytra sprang at me. They were small, but dangerous. I killed one by slamming my sword into its throat, the second with a well-placed flare spell. Unfortunately, that thoroughly pissed off the third. It ignored the fire in my palm and clamped its mouth on my arm. I shrieked as it pumped venom into my bloodstream. My blood boiled and burned. A weak swing cut off the bug's head, but I had no more strength. In the back of my mind, I tried one more thing-- summoning Haskill.

"Yes, madam?" My vision was hazy, but I was certain that genuine concern appeared on his face. I passed out, hoping that he would take pity on me.


	10. Safety

**((Haskill's POV))**

Sheogorath tapped His fingers on His throne. "Where is that pesky girl?"

"I'm unsure, my Lord." I felt a ringing in my head. "But I do believe I am being summoned. Do excuse me." I vanished and reappeared in one of the root tunnels. The sharp scent of insect guts hit my nose, and I recoiled. "Yes, madam?" I looked around for Regina, my blood running cold. Elytra poison seeped from her forearm. She glanced at me weakly before closing her eyes.

Alarm shot through me, and I lifted the helpless Nord into my arms.  _At the very least, we found her._  I tried to convince myself it was nothing more than that.

...

"Ah, so you found her!"

"My Lord, she needs medical attention." His eyes fixed on Regina's limp form, and they flashed with an emotion I hadn't seen in Him. I was unsure what it was, but He held all rights to her safety. "Should I send for the healer, Lord?"

"No need." He stood from His throne and walked over to me. "Put her down, Haskill." I obeyed. Her hair was soaked with perspiration, and I was certain that the fever was caused by the swift-acting poison the Elytra used. A simple wave of Sheogorath's hand, and the wound stopped oozing blood. It began to knit itself back together, and her breathing steadied. I sighed in relief. "She'll be fine," He announced, pressing two fingers to her neck.

"Good, my Lord."

"Good? Why good? Why do you say good? I thought I said fine. She's not good, she's fine. She's fine, do you hear me?"

"I hear you, Lord. I misspoke."

"Clearly. Now Haskill, what did we call her for?"

"You wanted to speak with her about a portal back to where she'd come from."

"Oh, that... well, I decided that portals are... unreliable. She'll not be going anywhere anytime soon. Now go do something." I nodded and turned around, pretending not to hear the incoherent cooing to the unconscious girl. Just before I opened the door to the palace grounds, I gave a final look back and saw Him place her on a summoned bed and open a book. "The Sixteen Accords of Madness, Volume IV." Sheogorath began to read to her, and I schooled my face into a blank slate.

...

 

**((Sheogorath's POV))**

 

I drummed my fingers on the golden throne. "Where is that pesky girl?"

"I'm unsure, my Lord." I looked over at my chamberlain and saw him wiggle his neck like a porpoise. I wondered if a porpoise had a purpose. "But I do believe I am being summoned. Do excuse me." I nodded and continued to think about nothing. That is, until  _she_  came into my thoughts again. I hated it so much that I loved it. When I thought about the Lady Regina, my usually jumbled mind made sense. I found who I was again. It was crazier than my alter-ego. I'd met her not two days before.

A flash alerted me to the return of Haskill. I grinned broadly, my mind clouding again. Was I thinking something? Probably about rats, cats, bats, and crocodiles. That's it. Crocodiles. I returned to un-reality. Or was it a dream? Could be a nightmare. Or not.

"Ah, so you found her!"

"My Lord, she needs medical attention." I saw Regina in his arms and frowned.  _That's not right. Mine._  "Should I send for the healer, Lord?"

"No need." I stood up without hesitation, again feeling the fog clear.  _Regina..._  "Put her down, Haskill." Haskill obeyed me, laying her limp form on the soft carpet. Her skin was pale and cold to the touch. I waved my hand, and the wound likely caused by one of my Elytra healed itself. Her rapidly moving chest slowed until the rise and fall became rhythmic. "She'll be fine," I declared, pressing two fingers to her neck. The pulse was steady.

"Good, my Lord." I glared up at Haskill, furious. Oh... what?

"Good? Why good? Why do you say good? I thought I said fine. She's not good, she's fine. She's fine, do you hear me?" Did that fool think I said something else? Did I say good? What's good, what's fine?

"I hear you, Lord. I misspoke."

"Clearly. Now Haskill, what did we call her for?" I whirled my wrist, and a bed appeared. I lifted her into it.

"You wanted to speak with her about a portal back to where she'd come from."

"Oh, that... well, I decided that portals are... unreliable. She'll not be going anywhere anytime soon. Now go do something." Haskill nodded and turned around. Certain that my chamberlain was safely away from hearing distance, I mumbled nonsense words to Regina and made one of my books materialize. "The Sixteen Accords of Madness, Volume IV..." As I read to Regina, I could have sworn that she began to smile.

...


	11. Stories

 

**((Regina's POV))**

I groaned, slowly waking up. I propped myself up and stared around.  _Where am I?_  The last thing I remembered was the Elytra.  _This isn't Sovngarde. Mother described it to me. This is... the Madgod's throne room. Why is there a bed in here? And why am I in it?_

"Good morning, sunshine. Or should I say, good afternoon." The familiar twang of Sheogorath's accent made me turn my head. The Daedric Prince was on His throne, leaning His head on His staff in front of Him. I began to panic.

"My Lord, I tried to come as soon as I heard you, I promise!" I jumped out of the bed and stumbled, my legs too weak to carry my weight so soon.

"What were you doing in Knotty Bramble, I must ask? After you left, I decided to torch it. Destroy it. It's all gone now. All of the Elytra, too. They never were my favorites. I prefer the Hunger and Skinned Hounds. And Haskill. He's one of my favorites."

"I'm flattered, my Lord," Haskill drawled.

"Answer me, Madame Regina. What were you doing out in the middle of nowhere?" I climbed to my feet.

"I was helping out one of the citizens in Crucible. She said she needed something called "aquanostrum"."

"And you believed her? Aquanostrum doesn't exist! It's a myth. Fairytale. Fiction. Made-up. Make-believe. But she made you believe in the made-up fictitious fairytale myth." I suddenly felt defensive.

"Look, she thought it was a miracle cure for some illness she thinks she has."

"It's Bernice, isn't it?"

"Er... yes."

"Then you might as well give her that dirty scum water you nearly died for." There was a bitter edge to the Madgod's voice.

"Okay. But..." I hesitated. "What did you need me for, Lord?"

"...No reason. I think I forgot." I didn't push it, though I knew that He was lying.

"Then I shall leave. Thank you for rescuing me, my Lord."

"Technically, Haskill brought you here. But healing you? My doing."

"Thank you both." I remembered my manners and curtsied, exiting the palace. My brain was a bit fogged, I'll admit, but I ignored it and went to Crucible.

The Dark Seducers were everywhere. "Madgod's blessings." Finally, I found the taphouse and went inside. Bernice lit up when she saw me.

"Oh, it's you."

"I've gathered the aquanostrum," I told her. "And I almost died getting it, so you'd better be thankful."

"I am. You saved my life, stranger." She chugged the murky water and sighed in relief. _That's the placebo effect for you._  I forced a smile and walked out. Immediately, the ground thundered with the Lord Sheogorath's voice.

"Mortal! Regina! Come to my palace at once!" I picked up my pace and rushed through Crucible to New Sheoth. After I burst into the throne room, Sheogorath was sitting on His throne. Where else? Haskill kept his eyes on me.

"Yes, Lord?"

"I have a plan for you."

"What would you ask of me now?" Immediately, Sheogorath scowled furiously.

"Ask? ASK?! I don't ask! I tell. This is my Realm, remember? My creation, my rules!" His eyes narrowed into slits, and I instinctively took a step backwards. "Look at you," he sneered. "No concept of what you've stumbled into! No sense of place. You don't even know where you really are, do you? I suppose few really do, but that's beside the point. We're going to give you a taste of where you have found yourself. You're going to learn." After the kindness Sheogorath had displayed, I'll admit that His sudden fury surprised me. I gritted my teeth.

"Learn what?"

"Two halves, two rulers, two places. Meet and greet. Do what they will, so you know what they're about. The Duke of Mania and the Duchess of Dementia. Seek them out, and let them show you what New Sheoth is. You might be surprised. Once you understand what my realm is, you might understand why it's important to keep it intact. And maybe you'll make some friends along the way. That's always nice! Start with Syl." I felt his dismissive tone and bowed my head. I headed into the first door on my left away from the throne, the side of Dementia.

The Duchess Syl was sitting on a great stone throne. Her outfit was stranger than any I'd seen before. Ebony-colored spikes jutted out from a frill in the back, and the front was cut down to her midriff. She glared at me disdainfully, and when I approached her, I curtsied in a show of respect.

"Why do you approach the Duchess of Dementia? Do you seek death?"

"I was told to find you." The hostility in her face cleared up.

"You're the one the Madgod sent, aren't you? Then you're safe for now. Speak to no one unless I instruct you to. None of them can be trusted! Do you hear me? None!" She glanced frantically to the left and right. "Surrounded by traitors and spies, I am. Always, always. They watch and wait, eager to slip a knife into my spine when I'm not looking. Could be all of them. Every last one. None can be trusted. But they'll never take me down! Never! I'll see them all rotting in shallow graves before I let my guard down.  _Slow down..._ "You... you will help me. Yes, yes. You will be most useful."

"Er... how can I help?"

"You're going to find out who knows. You're going to learn who keep secrets, who conspires against me. You will be my Grand Inquisitor," the Duchess announced. "Expose the conspirators, and they will be punished, I assure you. Find out who keeps secrets, and what they are. Speak with Herdir. He will help you. Do you understand what is required of you? If no one is found, you will be held responsible." 

"I will do as you say, Your Grace."  _So, I've been tasked with finding the people conspiring against Lady Syl. I need to find out and speak to Herdir-- presumably the torturer._  I set off in the direction of Syl's torture room. The chamber itself had a cage in the middle, with two large Hunger statues on its sides. A balding man stood in front of it.

"What brings you to this delightful corner of the House of Dementia? How may I help you?"

"I am the Grand Inquisitor."

"Are you? Hmm. I'd expected an entrance with a bit more flair. Ah, well. Perhaps you can grow into the role. One can hope, eh?"

"Look, I'm not much for showy displays. I'm here to complete Lady Syl's quest for me, not impress you with a fancy dress and magic."

"Right, right. Now, we've much to do. Lady Syl is not a patient woman, as I'm sure you've seen. Shall we begin?"

"Fine. Let's go." I held my head up high. It sent a thrill through me. Herdir would do what I said. He would obey me. I was the ruler for today.

"Ah, I do appreciate an assertive leader." He nodded at me approvingly. "I look forward to working with you on this assignment. Lead the way, Grand Inquisitor!"

...

"I am Kithlan," the Redguard informed me. "Steward of Lady Syl. Unless you have reason to be here, your presence is unwelcome."

"I have received orders from both the Duchess and the Madgod. What do you know about a conspiracy against Syl?"

"No conspiracies here," Kithlan said. "Go pester someone else." I frowned, annoyed.

"I don't think you're telling me the truth, Redguard. Herdir?" The torturer grinned and let loose a powerful bolt of lightning. Kithlan groaned in pain.

"I-- I swear! I know nothing about a conspiracy!"

"Again with the lies! Herdir, again!" This time, Kithlan was ready to speak the truth.

"Alright, alright... please, just stop. I don't know anything specific, but Anya has been acting weird lately."

"Who's Anya? Where can I find her?"

"Anya Herrick is Lady Syl's servant. She-- she's usually in the gardens. I think something might be going on with her. Now please, leave me alone!" Satisfied, I left the Redguard alone and walked out.

...

"Anya Herrick, I presume?" The Breton woman jumped.

"Oh, h-hello."

"I have a question for you... what do you know about a conspiracy?"

"What? N...No. I don't know anything about anything. I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"Hmm... perhaps a bit of torture will open your lips." I nodded to Herdir, who shocked Anya with a pleased look on his face. She screamed and put her hands over her head defensively.

"Please. I am not involved... I didn't do anything! They wanted me to get them close to Syl, but I wouldn't abide them!" Anya's lip quivered in fear. "I... I don't know, not for sure. Ma'zaddha came to me, said that Syl needed to be removed, and that I was supposed to help them, or else. I would be far too afraid to turn on Syl. But I couldn't turn them in, either, because they might come after me. Please, you must do something!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It was Ma'zaddha. He said he was working on behalf of someone else. He told me I needed to help him, or there would be repercussions. I didn't know what to do. Turning on Syl could cost me my life, but if I don't help, what will Ma'zaddha do to me? You must do something!"

"Are you sure that's everything?" I asked skeptically. Anya nodded rapidly.

"I've told you all I know. It was Ma'zaddha... I don't know anything more, I swear it!" I was reassured that she was telling the entire truth. 

"Anya," I began, "listen to me. If you hurt the Lady Syl, you won't have to worry about her, Ma'zaddha, or anyone else. You'll have to answer to  _me_. Believe me... that will be a less than pleasant encounter for you."

...

"Herdir, what do you know about Ma'zaddha?" I inquired, walking down the streets of Crucible. The name definitely belonged to a Khajiit.

"He's been to our dungeons several times," the torturer answered. "He continues to steal things he insists are his-- a spoon, a cup, a shovel, those kinds of things."

"Thanks. Where's his house?"

"Over here." Herdir led me to one of the tall stone buildings. "Based on his routine, he should be in here right now." Sure enough, the door was unlocked, and the Khajiit was inside. "Ma'zaddha, we have some questions for you."

"Looking, looking. Always looking, I am." When I tried to speak to him, I noticed that he didn't seem completely insane. "It's gone... all of it, gone! Have you seen any of it? Any of my things? The others... they think I'm stealing, but I just want my things back."

"What? What are you looking for?"

"Have you seen any of Ma'zaddha's things? A shiny spoon, or a broken bottle? I can't find them. Keep an eye out for my things, won't you?"  _Never mind. He's batshit crazy._

"Ma'zaddha, that's not why I'm here." I drew myself up to my full height. "We want to know about a conspiracy against the Duchess of Dementia." Ma'zaddha's ears pressed against his head, and his lips drew up in a snarl.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really?" I snorted contemptuously. "Herdir, you know what to do." The Imperial grinned and shocked the Khajiit.

"You may continue to do your worst, Inquisitor," Ma'zaddha groaned, "but unless you have some evidence of this preposterous conspiracy, you'll get nothing from me." I found myself wondering exactly what he was up to.

Herdir approached me and spoke in a hushed tone. "Ma'zaddha is reluctant to speak to you, and I assume there's good reason. It would be worth finding another way to get him to talk." 

As it turned out, the other citizens of Crucible had been quite chatty on Ma'zaddha's activities. I heard several reports, and the truth was a bit shocking.

"Ma'zaddha and Nelrene... They meet in the street during the night. No one knows what they talk about."

"I hear that Ma'zaddha has been seen talking to Syl's Guard Captain, Nelrene, but I haven't seen them."

"I've seen Ma'zaddha, yes. Talkin' to that Seducer, Nelrene. All secretive-like, out in the street late at night."

"I keep to myself, but I see Ma'zaddha and that Dark Seducer, Nelrene, meeting behind the buildings late at night sometimes." There was no need to torture anyone else, I had the means to get the proof I needed. A few minutes before midnight, I hid next to the Khajiit's house. Within fifteen minutes, the door creaked, and he slipped out, closing it quietly. Khajiit had acute hearing, but years of being hunted down by various people had given me enough knowledge on sneaking around. Not to mention the fact that my parents had been part of the infamous Thieves' Guild, and I'd obviously inherited their light feet. Karliah? Not so much.

I shook my past out of my head as a tear dripped from my eye.  _Don't think about it._  I missed my family, and the thought of remaining in the Shivering Isles for the rest of my life was a painful thorn. Ma'zaddha stopped near a sewer grate, and I perched myself above. The night provided cover for me, and the Dark Seducer guard that passed paid me no heed. In fact, she was focused on the path ahead.  _That must be Nelrene, the traitorous captain._

Nelrene began to speak in a whisper, and I had to bend my head to hear properly. "Have you made any progress? Will Anya assist us?" Ma'zaddha growled, which was answer enough, but continued.

"No, that blasted Inquisitor got to her. We'll need to find someone else."

"See that you do so immediately. This is the one task which you were assigned. If you cannot complete it, you will be removed. Are we clear?"

"I will, I will! I want to see Syl dead just as much as you do. She cannot be allowed to survive, after what she's done. It's despicable."

"Good. I shall expect a progress report soon. And keep your head down; the Inquisitor must not become involved." I furrowed my brows, confused.  _What has Syl done that is so terrible? I will fight for the cause of righteousness, not the cause of speculation._  Nelrene left, and just before Ma'zaddha followed, I leaped down in front of him. His ginger fur stood on end, and he hissed in shock.

"I heard that. I heard everything, you despicable cat!"

"What? I... I... It's for the good of Crucible! You must see that!" Ma'zaddha begged. His orange tail was between his legs, and he shook with fear. "Please, spare me! I'll do anything!"

"Why should I? Syl has ordered the death of any traitors. If I spare you, then my own life is on the line."

"You don't know, do you?" the Khajiit gasped, his whiskers twitching. "She's kept it a secret even from you! She and Thadon... they've been meeting in secret. They've been doing things together. Consorting. You understand me? It cannot be permitted! She must be stopped!"

"Really? She... you're about to kill her because you think she's having sex with the Duke of Mania?" I pressed my hand to my forehead. Ma'zaddha coughed nervously. "Enough about the screwed-up logic of yours. Who's behind all of this?"

"I don't know, besides Nelrene. She's taking orders from someone, but won't tell me who. If I find out, will you promise to spare me?" I considered what to say. Of course I wasn't going to kill him for anything. It was not my place for punishment, but that didn't mean that I couldn't use a fear factor. Of course, befriending him might make him a valuable ally in the future.

"Yes. I will spare your life, if your information proves valuable. But if you double-cross me, I will turn you into a rug."

"Thank you, thank you! You are too kind. I shall bring you names, I promise. Meet me in my house tomorrow at midnight. I'll have the information for you." I tipped my head slightly, accepting the deal. 

"Very well." The Khajiit slunk away into the night.

...

I waited until midday before going to Ma'zaddha's house. I knocked on the door and entered, looking around for the Khajiit. My foot squished in something wet, and I absentmindedly wiped it off. It was slimy, and I looked down. "Oh, my gods... oh, no..." A trail of blood led behind the first stone wall, and there laid the slain form of the Khajiit. The crimson liquid dripped from the walls, and it was clear that though he'd put up a fight, his killer tortured him before his painful death.  _This isn't something I'd wish on anybody._

"Dammit! Now we don't have an informant!" I glared at Herdir.

"This is a bit more serious, Imperial. His  _life_  is worth more than a bit of information we can easily find out." The sharp scent of blood filled the house. "I'm sure we can find something out. Watch the door."

"As you desire, Grand Inquisitor." In the house, I made two discoveries. One was shocking, the other not so much. During my time in the Shivering Isles, I'd heard about Muurine. She was a great gossip, but hadn't lifted a finger to hurt anyone-- and she was behind the entire operation. There was a letter in a cupboard that listed her name as the leader of the band. The other was a sword I'd seen on Nelrene. I decided to confront the Dark Seducer first.

...

"Herdir, torture her." The Dark Seducer clenched her jaw as she was electrocuted by the Imperial.

"I'm not even the one you want. Muurine is behind it. You'll need solid proof to pin it on her." I frowned, dissatisfied with her answer.

"Again." This bolt was more powerful. Nelrene stumbled to the ground and panted heavily.

"Argh... Very well. I am part of the group that wishes to see Syl drowned in a pool of her own blood. But I am not in charge. You want the leader. You want Muurine." She fixed me with an icy glare that spoke of hatred. "But no amount of torture will get a confession from her. You'll need more than just my confession. You'll need evidence, and I have none." 

"But I do." I flashed the letter in front of her face, which filled with horror.

"Where did you get that?"

"You know very well. Why did you kill Ma'zaddha?"

"...So he wouldn't tell you anything."

"That behavior... it's completely unacceptable. He may have been as much of a traitorous bitch as you, but his justice was not yours to dole out. You're despicable."

"Don't press me, mortal," the Dark Seducer hissed, brandishing a new sword. I smirked and conjured up a blazing white ball of fire and melted it down into a puddle of burning liquid. She screeched and drew her hand back as she was burned. Immediately, I cast a weak ice spell on her hand.

"Don't press  _me_. I show mercy to you now... but that can quickly change." Nelrene's blue wolf-like eyes flashed as she glared at me, trying to hide the fright that I was able to best her. I felt powerful. I felt like I  _mattered_. It was a new feeling, and I savored it.

...

"Uncle Leo lost an arm today." With a wave of my hand, spectral shackles bound themselves to Muurine's wrists. The more she struggled, the tighter they got. Her own magic was nothing compared to mine, and it too failed to release her.

"What is the meaning of this?!" she screeched furiously, finally getting the hint that the chains were not going to break-- that is, not going to break anything but her bones.

"You know what you've done, traitor. I've found you out." I took a step towards her. I knew how to appear menacing. I lowered my head and stared at her just over my eyelids, my black hair streaming down. I wore my black finery, and my white pallor made me look like an unholy demon. Muurine grimaced.

"I see you've done quite a bit of work to track me down. Yes, I orchestrated it," she admitted, spitting at my feet. "Syl deserves to die a painful death for turning on all of us, and consorting with our enemies. Go ahead, do what you will. Nothing matters now." I looked at the Altmer distrustfully. "Haven't you got what you need? Shouldn't you be running off to tattle like a good little servant?"

"You're in deep shit already, I wouldn't press my luck any further if I were you. Herdir, watch her."

...

"Lady Syl? Muurine was behind the operation of a conspiracy to take your life." The Bosmer tapped her chin thoughtfully, for once looking at peace-- and completely murderous.

"Is that so? I shall have her brought to the torture chamber at once. Meet me there shortly." 

...

The Altmer mage was trapped inside of the cage in the torture chamber. Despite her predicament, she maintained her contempt for both me and Syl. "You've chosen a side, little one," she cackled. "You'll get what's coming to you eventually."

"I'll be awaiting my death eagerly," I growled, backing up.

Syl cleared her throat and grabbed a lever. "You've confessed to attempting to kill me, I understand. The penalty for this treachery is death, and is to be carried out immediately." Without further warning, she pulled down the lever. Lightning shot out of the Hunger statue's mouths. I smelled the burning of human flesh, and I tried to breathe through my lips. It was vile.

Muurine let out one more agonizing scream before falling to the ground, never to wake again. Lady Syl turned to me, a triumphant smile on her face. "I do believe you've earned a reward. Take this bow; it is called Ruin's Edge. I believe you'll find it useful. I also promote you to Courtier of Dementia!"

"Thanks," I mumbled. "I... I'm going to leave now."

...

"Are you done?" Sheogorath rumbled, staring at me.

"I am."

"Well, you  _would_  still have the matter of Thadon, but you don't have to do that."

"What?"

"He'd be sending you into dangerous terrain, drugging you, leaving your survival uncertain."

"Why are you so concerned about me, my Lord?"

"You're quite important to this realm." His eyes bored into mine. "You may be the Isles's only hope, and you cannot do that if you are intoxicated-- or dead. If you were dead, that would be quite terrible indeed."

"Um... it would," I agreed.

"But there's an order of business that must be taken care of. You must travel to Cylarne in the northwestern corner of the Isles. Oh, and don't worry. You'll be fine. Right?" A pit of unease settled in my stomach. "You'll be safer than a bug under a boot!" Despite His rather wrong analogies, I found myself incredibly attracted to him. It was dangerous. So very dangerous. As far as my mother had told me, she hadn't mentioned any kind of charisma that Daedric Princes possess. So what was this?

"I shall go at once, Lord."

"No. You will not." I stared up at Him quizzically. "You are exhausted. Sleep, Regina. Eat. Rest. Recuperate." A smile crept onto my face.

"Thank you, my Lord. You are most kind."

"Do not be so formal. I have claimed you as my champion. Call me Sheogorath, Regina. Repeat after me-- Shay-oh-gor-ath."

"Sheogorath."

"Good job. Congratulations, you've learned my name! Now go. To the kitchens. Tell them to hold the Greenmote. Wouldn't want you to become drugged, would I?"

...

I was touched by Sheogorath's hospitality. I mean, he was a Daedric Prince, and he was treating me like I was royalty. He paid attention to me. I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice Haskill slide into the seat next to me.

"Lady Regina." I jumped slightly.

"Oh, it's you," I breathed. "You startled me."

"Forgive me for that. But... you are mortal."

"What's your point?"

"I want to know about the mortal world." Haskill folded his hands and looked at me.

"What do you want to know?"

"What do they do? Wear? Say? Think?"

"Wha-- how am I supposed to know everything? But mortals... er, we generally read or go on adventures. Sell things in marketplaces. Go fishing. Things like that." I was thrown into a memory.

_"Look, daddy!" I cried out excitedly, holding up my fishing pole for my father to see._

_"Good job, Regina!" he congratulated._

_"What is it?"_

_"It's seaweed. A big clump of it, too."_

_"Yay!"_

"Regina? Regina!" I returned to the present. I had tears streaming down my cheeks, and I hastily wiped them away. Haskill looked at me worriedly.

"I'm fine," I reassured the chamberlain. "Just... just leave me alone." He looked like he was about to protest, but stopped himself.

"As you desire, Regina. You can call upon me anytime, remember that."

...

"Well, I'm off. Would you like me to do anything before I leave, my Lor-- I mean, Sheogorath?" I was concerned that one day He would forget that he allowed me to use his name and kill me for it. But he didn't forget-- today. There was a glint in his golden eyes.

"There is, actually. I'd like you to read."

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me. Right? You heard me? Or maybe you didn't."

"I heard you, I think. You want me to  _read_?"

"I presume a talented young woman like you knows how to read?"

"Of course," I scoffed.

"Good. Now, I'd like you to read to me. Aloud. I need to capture your voice."

"Um... what?"

"That's great to hear! Let's go." With a flick of His wrists, we were in the most extensive library I'd ever seen-- and the most disorderly. Books were strewn about, and most were out of place. I ran my thumb over the nearest titles.  _Hmm... Moonlight's Embrace. Sounds interesting._ I picked it up and almost opened it when Sheogorath plucked the book from my hands.

"Not this one. Never this one. Don't read it."

"Er..."  _This looks interesting... it's called Dragonborn. Who's this author? Fire Bug? I wonder--_

"Not that one either!! You can't read about the futuristic pastly!" I bit my lip in amusement and chose a third one. It didn't have a title. "That one! It's my favorite, that's good. Wait, wait! Let me get my comfortable chair." A plush chair came into being, and he flopped down on it. "Now read!"

I opened it and gaped. There were no words, no pictures. "My-- Sheogorath? There aren't any words."

"I know. Read it to me. Read to me what you hear... in your mind." I sighed and stared at the book. When I returned to the first page, words floated into my mind.  _Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl with a terrible life. She was a princess treated as a slave._

"Though she was a servant in her own home, her beauty was unmatched," I repeated from my thoughts. "Her voice was melodic like the moon's rise, her hair like a night sky, eyes like a day sky, and had the grace of the dawn. She was more beautiful than a sunset.

"One day, this young lady was stolen away from her bed by a strange man. He didn't show his face, and she was scared. But she wasn't courageous enough to rise up against him. He brought her to a large stone palace in a gorgeous land. It was a beautiful place, bright and gay. The man hid the maiden away in his palace. He had fallen in love with the lady and did not desire to see her suffering at the hands of those who should have loved her.

"He did not allow her to leave, but he acquiesced every other request the lady had. If she desired the rarest fruit from the deepest cavern in the world, he would retrieve it. If she desired the finest silk and pearls for a gown, he himself would spin and sew to make her happy. Her desires became his, and he fought hard to earn her love." I paused, the story seeming to strike a chord in my heart.

"Continue, Regina." The Madgod had his eyes closed, but his palm was half-open, a glowing blue orb inside of it. I didn't question it, though my curiosity nearly pushed me to.

"One day, the woman was absent from the palace. He had brought her a pair of golden-spun slippers that she had asked for. He believed that his lady had tricked him. He was infuriated and distraught to see the woman he believed to be his love gone. He ripped the slippers apart and tore her room down brick by brick, ridding himself of every last remnant of her. He saw the beauty of the land that he had thought she loved. His anger grew, and he split it into two. In one, he kept the golden land. The other, he spread the destroyed gifts and his own tears to turn it into a twisted place, a representation of his sorrow.

"The man's anger never faded, and he continued to return to the palace to find more things of hers to destroy. The final thing he found was a mirror that she had so loved. He could not bring himself to break it, and looked at himself in the mirror. In all the things she asked of him, she had never asked to see his face.

"His sorrow was so great that it became a part of the mirror. Instead of breaking the fragile glass, the mirror would from then on reflect the worst qualities of whomever dared glance into it. He kept it in a safe place before it was stolen by a thief. He did not care much any longer, for by that time, he had changed.

"The man's mirror went around, and where it went, death and feuds followed. He did not care for its reflection, nor concern for his subjects. Those who touched and saw the mirror moved to the second realm, the one of darkness and twisted roots. They felt it best that the land they lived reflected their persons. Their experiences changed them until their minds were addled. They could not tell friend from foe, illness from health. They lived in their dementia.

"The people who did not see the mirror fed on the golden land, and became greedy with too much. Their minds were captured, and no longer able to leave the golden land. They ate upon drugs and food and drink, until their souls had gone as crazy as the man's had when his lady had left him. They lived in their mania.

"The two lands became named thus." My voice nearly broke. "He had prior lived in his castle as a god to his people and brethren. He was great among his people. Before his lady had left, he was a great god.

"His godkin had stolen away his lady, to break his spirit. When he was blinded by love, he had grown more powerful than them. He finally found out about the treachery of his kin, but by then it was too late. He had grown as insane as his subjects, and his lady was long dead.

"He was not alone, however. He found a single subject that had not succumbed to the land's insanity. Two races of followers of his godkin found themselves discontented with their godmaster's actions and pledged loyalty to him.

"Tales speak of how he still searches for her. He insists that her time in his land bound her to it, and to him. He says that she will return, as his queen. Some call him insane. Some call him mad. Others still call him..." I stared at the final page, unwilling to read the last word. "Others still call him... Sheogorath."


	12. The Cold Flame of Agnon

 

The book fell from my hands. Sheogorath's golden eyes met mine, and once again, the pupils shifted into a humanlike aspect. I didn't know what upset me more, that Sheogorath was already... well, in love... or that he was staring at me in a way that no one had before. It wasn't predatory, it was soft.

And it frightened me.

I stood up stiffly and bowed my head. "Good day to you, my Lord. I take my leave to Cylarne to clean up the mess."

"Regina, stay here!"

"I have work to do, Sheogorath."

"You wench! Do you understand it?! You're doing it again!" he screamed, pulling at his hair. I stepped back in fear. "You're leaving me again! Why are you doing this, Galea? Why?!" I fled the room, leaving the Daedric Lord screeching behind me.

"Regina, are you injured? Why are you panting?" Haskill caught me by my arm.

"Let me go," I whined, pulling myself from his grip.

"Is there anything I can do?" He queried, giving me a kind look.

"I don't think so," I mumbled. "Nothing at all."

"My Lady..." Haskill's voice cut off. "Please tell me... what is it? What enchantment have you cast?" My eyes widened.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"No one has entranced me as you have. Please... let me go from your spell. Have you forced me to love you?"

"Do you really--" I stared at the Breton in disbelief. "Are you  _fucking kidding me?!_  I really thought you were the  _one_  sane person in the entirety of the Shivering Isles!" Tears sprang to my eyes, and I wondered why I was yelling at him. "I haven't enchanted you, I haven't had a good night's sleep since I left my goddamn home in  _Skyrim_  who knows how long ago, I'm not this "Galea" the Madgod's speaking of, and as far as I can tell, I'm going fucking insane!!" Haskill stared at me helplessly, and I stormed out of the palace. I rushed out of the cities and headed for Cylarne.

...

_Dammit, Sheogorath. Stop. I'm not Galea. Don't do this. Haskill, I'm sorry for screaming. It was out of place._ My feelings were jumbled. Feeling oddly betrayed by Him when I had no right to, and at the same time despising how he called me by the name I presumed to be the woman he loved.

I emptied the thoughts from my brain and walked to Cylarne, keeping my mind on the path ahead. When I reached the ancient building, the first thing I noticed was the two races of guards glaring at each other. I tentatively approached the Golden Saints.

"Halt," the commander barked. "Mortals are not permitted within the holy walls of Cylarne!"  _I don't like the Golden Saints,_ I thought.  _They're too haughty, believing themselves above everyone._

"Out of my way, Daedra scum," I growled. The Saint glared at me and shoved me back. I returned the cold look and went to the Dark Seducer. The meeting with the Mazken went much better. From what I gathered, I was to help them claim the Altar of Rapture from the Golden Saints so I could light the "Flame of Agnon".

I met with Ulfri, and was immediately reminded of the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion. Though it had ended years ago with the Empire joining them and slaughtering the Thalmor... I was thrown into another memory.  
  


_"Don't go, mama!" I pleaded, pulling on her hand._

_"Russ, stay here with our daughters," my papa begged._

_"This is something I must do," mama told him. "The Thalmor are an abomination." She kissed his cheek. "If we can take on a Daedric Prince and win, you'd damn better believe I'll rip apart the Thalmor with my bare hands."_

_"Just... come back."_

_She had successfully helped turn the tides of war. The Thalmor were defeated, and Skyrim was freed from the Elves' control._   
  


I shook my head and followed the Dark Seducer, listening to their plan. I nodded and set runes down on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Ulfri queried.

"Setting down different spells to trick the Golden Saints," I replied, drawing a symbol in the stone with magic and slicing across my hand to activate it. "We won't lose any soldiers if I can kill them immediately with a few well-placed runes."

"If that is how Sheogorath's chosen Champion chooses to fight, then that is how we will. Thank you for fighting alongside us." The Mazken commander smiled slightly, and I was touched by her humbleness.

...

As I'd predicted, the Dark Seducers won. No Golden Saints even made it past my rune trap, and the Altar of Rapture was successfully taken by the Mazken. Ulfri put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a genuine smile. Pointed teeth protruded from her lips, and I grinned in return.

"It has been an honor, Lady Regina, but it is time for me to take the path I was set on by the Lord Sheogorath."

"What do you mean?"

"The altar must be lit with the willing sacrifice of an immortal. I am more than willing to give my life in service of Our Lord." I felt a pang of regret for the Mazken commander. Despite only having known her for a few hours, it seemed like we had a stronger kinship than the children I'd grown up with.

Ulfri took her place on the Altar and raised her sword. I turned my head away as I heard the sinking of the blade into flesh. When I looked back, the Dark Seducer was lying dead in the Altar, a bluish-white blaze burning over.

"You must step into the flame," one of the Mazken murmured, and I hesitantly stepped closer. The fire burned hotter than I'd ever felt, but it was my duty. I needed to be someone important for once in my life. Was this a sacrifice? A death of mortal _and_ immortal beings? Either way... I would either live as a hero in the Isles or spend eternity in Sovngarde. I let myself fall into the burning, ever-consuming fire.


	13. Ritual of Accession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone starving for love will do anything to keep it.  
> ~TheRussetNightingale, 2015

 

 

My eyes were closed tightly, and I opened them at the slight tickling feeling around my feet. The fire was not burning me, on the contrary, it felt like a warm embrace. I couldn't hold back a smile. The Dark Seducers bowed down to the Altar. When I approached one, she gave me a smile-- not something I'd seen on  _any_  of the Daedra that roamed the Isles. 

"You should go to Sacellum Arden-Sul and light the beacon of Dementia. Thank you for everything you've done for us."

"It was my pleasure. I'm glad I could help." With that, I made for the exit.

Once I was out in the cold air again, I was reminded of my... predicament. I shuddered, not just because of the icy wind.  _I just blew off a damn Daedric Lord_ and _his Chaimberlain. Well, if I'm not royally fucked, then it'll be a miracle._

The fire around me illuminated the darkness of the night. Several times, I saw Sheogorath's creature quickly flee from me. I didn't consider it, I just took it as a good thing. 

 

...

 

I reached New Sheoth by the next morning. People backed away from me as well, frightened by the bluish-orange blaze that cloaked me. Trepidation weighting my feet down, I trudged up the stone stairs to the chapel. Inside were two men, both in robes. Their attire was quite different, however. One was garbed in a red ornate robe, the other wearing teal.

"Hello?" I approached the red priest, who brightened up at seeing the bright glow around me.

"Dervenin, High Priest of Mania at your service."  _Dervenin? That madman outside the Blue Palace in Solitude... back home?_ "What brings you to this holy place on such a fine day?"

"This is Sacellum Arden-Sul. Who was Arden-Sul to you?"

"Yes, Arden-Sul. Doesn't the name simply roll wonderfully off the tongue? He was the sovereign of thought and a regnant artist. To call him a simple craftsman would not suffice; know him as the Artificer Superior. Words dripped like honey from his tongue and his songs were intoned with extraordinary verisimilitude. Had we been blessed with his constant presence, the Isles would be a Maniac's paradise."

"Well, about the Fla--"

"You've brought it!" he chirped. I hid a scowl at the pitch his voice went to. It was incredibly annoying. "The holy Flame of Agnon, the fire of Inspiration and Rapture!!" He continued to prattle on, oblivious to my ever-growing irritation. "If you light the Great Torch on the Mania side of the Sacellum, you will be a hero to the people of Bliss, I assure you!"

"You know what? Just... let me think about it." I rolled my eyes.

"Do not think about it," Dervenin ordered. "Dream about it!! Let your mind soar on flights of fancy! I know you will choose well, in the end!"  _What the hell...?_ I backed away from him and glanced towards the other priest. He only hunched in the corner, staring at me with a hungry look. I bit my lip in anxiety that suddenly built up. Still, I ignored it and approached him.

"Arctus, High Priest of Dementia. I'm here to guide those that wish to serve themselves. What did you require?"

"Hold on... everyone keeps talking about some Arden-Sul. Dervenin's the Priest of Mania, and you're for Dementia... obviously. Why are you both preaching in the same church?"

"Blasphemy! Never utter the name of the Dark Deceiver lightly! Though his body is beyond Oblivion, his soul encircles us... always watching, waiting to pounce with lethal aplomb. He is the bringer of pain and pleasure; the blade that cuts through our sins like a scythe through wheat. Only a true Demented can appreciate what it means to render his name." He clacked his fingers oddly and stared at me. I bit my lip.

"Um... about the Torch..."

 "Yes, I saw! You burn with the purging Fire of Agnon, the flame of Truth, the flickering beacon of hope in the gloom of despond! Come, light the Great Torch for Dementia. Illuminate the conspiracies! Deepen the shadows! The people of Crucible await their Hero! It would be a truly Demented act to light the Great Torch with a Flame purchased with the blood of the Golden Saints. Come, light the Great Torch for Dementia!"

"What if I told you I wanted to light it for Mania?"

"Oh no. You don't want to do that. Don't believe their lies. They are no true friends. Don't you see it? How they whisper behind your back? No, light the Torch for Dementia and you'll see how we treat our friends. Dementia takes care of its own."

"That's... great. Let me think about it."

"Yes, let your mind worry at the problem. Let fear and dismay over making the wrong choice sink their talons deep into your brain..."  _Wha--_  for a split second, the doubts had indeed crept into my mind.  _No. I am so not dealing with his bullshit._ _I am not going insane. I am not paranoid. If I have to light the Torch for one of these asshats, then it's not going to be for the realm of paranoia. I'll go for Mania._ Dervenin was waiting by his side of the church expectantly and grinned when I walked over.

"So, you've decided to light the Torch for Mania?"

"I'll light the Great Torch for you," I told the priest. Glee filled his face.

"I knew I saw the glint of true Mania in your eyes, my child. Go now and let the holy Flame inspire the people of Bliss to new heights of madness!!" I bit my lip and followed the madman to a door in the back of the chapel. He opened it, and inside was a bowl with a bit of oil inside. I extended a hand, and the flames leaped off of my fingers and into the beacon. 

The  chapel was washed with a bright light, and I had to avert my eyes to avoid blindness. I stumbled backwards and found myself in strong arms.

"Thanks, Dervenin," I mumbled, allowing him to lift me back up.

"I do not understand why you would mistake me for Dervenin, Lady Regina." My cheeks reddened at the sound of Haskill's voice. "My Lord would like to speak to you." I winced and subconsciously reached out to grasp the Breton's arm. He looked down at it in amazement, and I quickly pulled it away. 

"Where is he?" I growled, false anger covering the complete fear.

"In the front of Sacellum Arden-Sul, Lady Regina." He leaned in to whisper into my ear. "Good luck." I shivered and looked towards the door. Sure enough, the Madgod was sitting down on a pew, clapping his hands in amusement.  _He doesn't look pissed-off, but you can't ever tell with Him._  Swallowing my nervousness, I approached Sheogorath.

"Aren't you off to a good start!" the Daedric Prince chortled. Frankly, I was rather startled by his jovial attitude, and quite frightened by it as well. "That's important. For me. Really, your work is going to save me a lot of time."

"Pardon me, what?" Sheogorath seemed to be in his own little world.

"Yes, yes. You won't be accepted unless you're in a position of power, no no."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're here to stop everything! Change it! Change that. Break  the cycle. You'll stop me. I'll have my Realm. Like it was. I've never actually tried that before."

"I can stop you-- what the hell?"

"Why not?" Sheogorath shrugged. "Something has to work. Once, I dug a pit and filled it with clouds. Or was it clowns? Doesn't matter. It didn't slow him down."

"Who is _him_? Dammit, if you want me to help with whatever's got you going batshit here, you've got to tell me!" Sheogorath once again ignored me.

"To be honest, it wasn't the best idea. And it really began to smell. Must have been clowns. Clouds don't smell bad. They taste of butter! ...And tears."

"So does the grape medicine my mother forces me to choke down," I muttered. "Well,  _forced_..."

 

 

_"Take it, Regina." My mother wore a look of forced patience while I thrashed around._

_"No, no no!" I screamed, pounding the bed. She took advantage of my open mouth, and I slammed it shut just in the nick of time. The purple-black liquid dripped down my chin._

_"Regina, your tummy's not going to get better if you don't drink this!"_

_"Not drinkin' it," I muttered through my lips, crossing my arms. She loaded up another spoonful of the nasty medicine. "Karliah said it tasted like deaf and the tears of orfins." My mother cracked a smile. After that, I refused to speak._

_"Regina?" She pinched my nose, and I was determined to hold my breath forever. Unfortunately, I only lasted about ten seconds before I opened my mouth to gasp furiously. She shoved the pewter spoon through, and I coughed on the bitter liquid. Despite the disgusting taste, my belly was soothed. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"_

_"It was sucky," I grumbled, smacking my lips to get rid of the aftertaste. "No more."_

_"No more," she promised, kissing my head. "Now, get to bed, sweetheart. See you in the morning." She extinguished the lanterns and closed the door._

"Are you listenin' to me, Regina? Haskill, is she listening? Reginaaaa!" I snapped out of the memory.  _Seems like the longer I'm here, the more memories crop up._ "Ah, there you go! I was almost worried. Or was I snowing? Haskill, was I snowing?"

"No, Lord."

"Oh, then I was worried. But this is all new."

"Please refresh my memory," I groaned, pressing my fingers to my temple. "What are you talking about?!"

"A fresh idea! Something I hadn't thought of, until I did. It's sure to work, even though it might not." 

"That's comforting." I decided to give up. "Fine. But what now?"

"Now? You'll need the respect of my citizens, if you're to be mfmmmbrdmm..." Sheogorath mumbled towards the end, and I was unable to pick out what he'd said. "Anyways, yes! Pigeons are always nice. So they'll need a leader-- not pigeons, mind you-- my citizens. A leader to look up to when I'm one. They're the backbone of any great land. Not citizens or pigeons this time. Leaders. Except where the backbone is an actual backbone. Ever been to Malacath's realm...? Nasty stuff. But, back to the business at hand."

"Please continue."

"Oh, right! You'll need to control one of the Courts of Madness. Replace a current Duke. Or Duchess. Whichever. That will command respect! The people will rally around you." Sheogorath pulled at my arm until I was directly next to him. His skin was smooth and warm. I noticed Haskill glance away. He waved his hand away from him, as if laying out an entire plan. "You'll have their love, their admiration..." Sheogorath's words were painting an elaborate future in my mind. 

Thousands of subjects bowing before me, shouting my name, just as I'd always deserved. "Regina! Vive Regina!" 

"Their complaints. And paints. Whatever. As long as it keeps them on  _our_  side." Our side.  _Our side._  I felt happier, lighter.  _It means_ nothing _, Regina,_  I told myself firmly.  _You can't rely on that. It was one word. One._ Still... despite the Daedric Prince's previous outburst, my heart fluttered.  _No, no... no..._  I tried thinking of a response.

"Y-you intend for me to replace a Duke or Duchess? Won't they be displeased?" Sheogorath released me and laid back-- on an invisible headboard. I tried it-- and found an invisible cushion behind my head.

"No. No, no, no. Absolutely not." I gave him a look of pointed disbelief, and he amended his prior statement. "Well... yes. Absolutely. Bit of a shame for them. But, sometimes you need to break a few eggs. Or skulls. There are rules, though. Even in the Isles. Rituals and rules. You need to follow them."

"Sheogorath, please... you're not making this any easier for me to understand. And don't you dare undermine my intelligence."

"Wasn't planning on it. Speak to Arctus and Dervenin, the High Priests at the Sacellum Arden-Sul. They can explain what needs to be done. And you've always got our man Haskill to call on for help. Faithful like a good hound, that one. And he looks better in a suit." I gave Sheogorath a small smile and stood up, stretching my arms. I felt like a great weight had been lifted off my chest. Sheogorath didn't even seem to remember my previous... well, spurning of him. If he had, certainly he'd have mentioned it.

 

...

 

 

((Sheogorath's POV)) 

 

"Haskill, come here." I twitched my fingers. "Listen to me. Do you think she remembers?"

"Remembers what, Lord?"

"Oh, the story! She told me a story. It was a nice one. Not enough cheese. But a nice one."

"Why don't you ask her, Lord?"

"No, no. She seemed upset. Very. Like...  _she_... did." My mind cleared slightly.  _Regina..._  "Before  _she_  left. Remember?"

"I do not, Lord. Forgive me." I looked back to the woman as she spoke with Dervenin.  _Regina. Regina. Regina._

_Galea._

...

 

((Regina's POV))

 

I approached the Priest of Mania. "Dervenin?"

"Ah, yes! The Great Torch shines with the pure light of Mania! You chose well! In accordance with the ancient tradition, receive now the Raiment of Arden-Sul in honor of your mighty deed in service to Mania." He tossed a bundle towards me, which held a blue dress-- not exactly my style, I'll admit.

"Sheogorath told me to speak with you about... replacing a Duke."

"Yes..." Dervenin whispered, staring at the ceiling. "How we would all aspire to be as great a leader as the First... our savior Arden-Sul, the greatest Duke of the ages. We celebrate him with the Ritual of Accession... the path to Maniac Bliss."

"What's the Ritual of Accession?" I asked curiously. In all honesty, despite the high-pitched tone (would augur poorly for singing, I noted in the back of my mind), learning about the Isle's history was fascinating. I knew everything about Tamriel's history. This was something new to chew on.

"An important part of our history, my friend! I would be glad to tell the tale if you have a moment."

"Sure."

"Arden-Sul was perhaps the greatest Duke to walk our land. Many years ago he decided to hold a night of absolute indulgence, resplendent with dance, wine, and sex to celebrate his fondness for his brethren. The Greenmote flowed like water in a stream as the revelers voraciously succumbed to its rapturous ways."

"Really? It was that great of a party? I doubt it." 

"Ahhh, but it was. As the bacchanal reached a crescendo, the people began to clutch their chests as their very hearts exploded! The Greenmote had taken its toll. The ground stained a deep crimson as the sanguine liquid flowed from their lifeless bodies. To represent that night, when the ruler of Mania is to be replaced, he partakes of the Greenmote and allows his lifeblood to flow upon the Altar."  

Arctus had quite a different tale to tell of Arden-Sul and replacing a Duke.

"Seldom is the subject ever bro-... wait a moment, did you want to hear the history of the Ritual?" 

"If you please."

"As it happened so many years ago, my lord Arden-Sul suspected a traitor in his midst. Not wishing to find himself on the wrong end of a blade, he gathered his flock here in the Sacellum. By poisoning the sacramental wine, Arden-Sul was able to suppress any such conspiracy in one fell swoop."

"That's fascinating... and really,  _really_  disturbing. He must've been one crazy bastard."

"Yes. He then removed their hearts from their bodies and used his ancient scrying technique known as visceromancy to read their lifeblood. When Arden-Sul couldn't divine the traitor's true nature in their hearts, he became distraught and took his own life in the same way. From that day on, the Ritual of Accession for the throne of Dementia was set."  

"Dervenin had something else to say," I began. Arctus smacked me across the face, and I rubbed my jaw. "What in the name of all hells was that for?!"

"Dervenin's a liar, and a schemer, and is unworthy to be one of Arden-Sul's priests." I glared at Arctus and turned around.

"Just for slapping me, you son of a bitch, I'm not doing jack shit for you." 

"Woah, wait!"

"Nope. Dervenin, I'll become Mania's Duchess." I turned around and slammed into the Madgod. "By the gods, I'm sorry..."

"No need to apologize. But you're back!"

"Actually,  _you're_  back."

"How nice for you. Does that mean you've made a decision? Or are you lost? Suicidal? Just let me know."

"Haven't been suicidal since I was thirteen."

"...Ah." It was something of a miracle to take the Madgod by surprise, and I grinned.

"Yes, I've come to a decision."

"A friendly word of warning before you choose. Once you've decided which Duke to replace, there's no turning back. One choice. No more, no less. Try not to do something stupid." His face twisted into a grimace before popping into an insane smile. "So, which is it? What will it be? Mania? Dementia? The suspense is killing me. Or you, if I have to keep waiting." I bit my lip-- which I just realized was a new habit I'd picked up.

Sheogorath noticed my anxiety. "What is it? Is-- oh. I won't kill you. Never. You're something of amazing beauty I'd never destroy." I felt a blush creep onto my face.

"Thank you, Sheogorath."

"You're very welcome, Regina." He smiled happily. "Who will you choose, then?"

"Oh, right... I'll replace Thadon, the Duke of Mania."

"A safer choice, perhaps." Sheogorath nodded approvingly. "Maybe you'll live through this. Thadon's a bit lost these days. Not that it's a bad thing. It suits him. Until now." He laughed jovially. "Besides, won't it be a grand surprise when you make his heart burst from too much Greenmote? Thadon loves surprises!"

"Wait, I'll have to  _murder_  someone?" 

"Yes, to replace Thadon, he'll have to die!" I mulled over it. There was such joy on Sheogorath's face... The attention he gave me, not to mention the adoration of new subjects, was enough of a motivator. My heart felt heavier.  _I'm doing this for... for love. The love of the kingdom, and possibly its ki-- no. Yes. No._ I swallowed and stepped forwards. 

"I'll do it."


	14. Ritual of Mania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 99% of what characters other than Regina say is taken directly from the game's dialogue.
> 
> When you see this (~~~), there is sensitive material that may be a trigger. That symbol will come before and after.

 

....

My mind whirred with a thousand thoughts as I exited Sacellum Arden-Sul into Bliss.  _I need to get Thadon to ingest a fatal amount of Greenmote and take his blood from his exploding drugged heart, then. That doesn't sound weird at all._

I decided to ask around Bliss, the city embodiment of Mania. Every citizen directed me to Thadon's court, in particular, to his steward Wide-Eye. When I spoke to the Argonian, she seemed unsteady, drunk.

"Thadon is your Duke, correct?"

"Such a kind and noble man," she squeaked happily, clasping her clawed hands. "In times like these, it's good to have a leader who still enjoys all the modern pleasures Mania has to offer."

"Pleasures?" I queried. Wide-Eye smirked at me.

"Well, yes. Apart from enjoying his painting, reading a good book, or a... rousing night of erotic bedroom games?"

"That's... too much information."

"Well, I'm speaking of Greenmote, of course! There is no greater pleasure! If I didn't have such a busy daily routine, I'd likely indulge myself in its pleasures more often."

"You have a busy routine?"

"At the risk of being rude, I must confess I don't like talking about the specifics of my routine. Thadon has too many enemies that may turn that knowledge against him. He depends on me quite dearly."

"I see," I growled, putting on a false face of hurt. "It's ridiculous. I'm eighteen, hardly a threat to Thadon, and was only asking about your schedule because of curiosity. But whatever, it's just not right to reveal it to a  _child._ " Wide-Eye hesitated, and I silently congratulated myself when she gave in.

"Very well, I see little harm in telling you. After a bit of reading in the garden and running my special errand at noon, I like to shop at Books of Bliss. Around 8 p.m., we are served dinner. Gundlar is quite a chef and prepares Thadon's meals personally, adding just a hint of Greenmote. After that, we dance, we sing, or we do whatever else suits my lord's tastes."

"What's Greenmote?"

"Greenmote is the refined version of the spores that are harvested from the spore trees that dot Mania. We keep the Greenmote safely tucked inside the Greenmote Silo. You can imagine the ruckus if its location was known. Only a select few, such as myself, know the Silo's location. However, we are sworn to secrecy."

"Where is the Silo?" Immediately, the Argonian's expression turned sour.

"There isn't enough gold or enough jokes in the world that would convince me to tell you where the Greenmote is located."

"Oh. Well, Thadon--"

"Yes, I must attend to him. Speaking to you has already cost me time. I must go."  _I need to follow her, then. She should be leaving before eight o'clock to get Greenmote for Gundlar..._

...

I waited patiently until Wide-Eye walked out the door. I trailed behind her silently, and she veered right along New Sheoth's pathway. In the very back was a bust of Sheogorath. It spun at her touch and moved aside, revealing a ladder. Wide-Eye descended, and before anyone could spot me, I followed.

...

I could smell something sharp in the air, nearly intoxicating. Many Golden Saint's voices reached my ears, and I quickly rolled past them.  _Being a thief has advantages, papa always said._ The odor grew stronger until I was in a cavern. A pile filled the room, and Wide-Eye was pulling from the pile. She looked left and right before stuffing a clawful into her mouth. I took the moment of her delirium to snatch from it and put the fine dust into my pouch. I left the Silo and headed for the kitchens.

...

Sneaking past the Golden Saints in Thadon's chambers was easy enough. Poisoning his food... not so much. I held the pouch above the preparations, unsure whether or not to continue.  _This will kill him. Will I do it? Power or morality?_ I heard voices behind me coming to collect the food. Without another moment to deliberate, I dropped the powder on it and in his wine. A Golden Saint collected the tray and wine, leaving me with guilt pooling in my stomach.

Leaving was just as easy as entering. The Saint set the tray in front of the Duke of Mania, and he began to eat ravenously. I hadn't eaten in a day, yet I felt sick to my stomach watching him. He stood up suddenly.

"Oh my yes, I feel especially delighted this evening! Perhaps it's time I recited my latest soliloquy." Thadon cleared his throat, and everyone else fell silent. "Ahem. The lady fair, our love is told. With hair as fine as soft-spun gold. Lips as red as a sun-drenched dawn, skin as soft as a newborn fawn. Eyes as blue as a cerulean sea...uhh...what... my heart...can't breathe...help me..." I uttered a weak cry as he fell to the ground, blood pouring from his mouth. I bit my lip again and gathered his blood in a tiny glass vial. When it was filled, I put the stopper in and stepped back.

Wide-Eye sobbed and ran towards the Duke. "I never suspected it was Thadon's time, but what's done is done. I honor his choice..."  _Do they not suspect me?_ Gundlar was quite happy however, raising his arms in enjoyment.

"There's no need to mourn. The Ritual has begun! Be happy!"

...

Carrying the accursed vial of blood, I entered the Sacellum Arden-Sul. Inside, a Golden Saint waited next to Dervenin and Sheogorath. The Madgod offered me a happy smile, and I felt the pressure on my chest lighten. A bowl was prepared in the middle on a pedestal, and I carefully tipped Thadon's blood into it. I jumped as a beam of light shot up from the bowl.

"Once again has the Ritual of Accession come full circle!" Dervenin announced, bending down on one knee and bowing his head. I felt a surge of pride.  _Yes, yes..._ "The Blood of Thadon has been consumed by Arden-Sul's will, and all of Mania welcomes you with open arms."  _I am where I belong._ "I now declare you Duchess of Mania of the Shivering Isles! May your light shine upon all our happiest days!"

I turned around when someone put a firm hand on my shoulder. Who else would it be but Sheogorath? He slipped a ring into my hand.

"You've done very well, Regina," he praised. "Congratulations. You've done it! The Ritual is complete, and you've survived! A shame about Thadon, but it's how he would have wanted to go. Now, on to other..." I whirled around as a chapel door was slammed open. A Bosmer female stomped in-- Syl, the Duchess of Dementia.

"Wait! I must speak! The Ritual must not be completed!"

Sheogorath pounded his staff on the floor, glaring at the Duchess angrily. "Syl! How dare you interrupt me! Only I interrupt me. Like just then. I'm speaking with someone. We'll talk later. Or not. When is later, exactly? Not now, I'm sure of that. Guards, I think Syl forgot how to use the door. Kindly show her out. Before I forget myself."

"Thadon... dead? You've done this. It was you all along!" She stepped back in shock, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Hold your tongue, little Duchess, or I'll tear it from your mouth," Sheogorath warned her.

"Replacing Thadon with this... outsider? This is how it ends. I should have seen this coming." She drew a dangerous-looking warhammer, and I instinctively clutched Sheogorath's arm. He placed his free hand on mine. "Is she your whore? Is that what this is?!"

"Calm yourself, Syl. You're making my teeth itch. You still hold your office. I suggest you see to your duties."

"No! I see what's going on. I should have seen it before. You conspire to destroy us all! You're a fool if you think I'll allow this to happen."

"Fool? Visionary! Change is in the air, Syl. Breathe it deep! Bathe in its scent! Bottle it up. Save some for later."

"Order will stand at our door. Did you even know? Do you care? And you speak of "change"?"

"Change will preserve us! It is the lifeblood of the Isles. It will move mountains! It will mount movements!"

"No. I can't do this. There has to be a way out. A way to escape."

"Then go, Syl. Return to your quarters. Before I send you back in pieces."

"Yes! That's what I'll do. I'll go. The enemy of my enemy. Order is the key. I'll keep them close." The guards drew their weapons and walked up to her, ready to plunge them into her flesh.

"No! Let her go!" Sheogorath's sudden command surprised me. _You have never let an enemy go._

"This is not over, Madgod. I give myself to Jyggalag. As a Priest of Order, I'll be safe. Your empire will crumble before the armies of Order."

After the dispute, Syl left the Sacellum furiously. Sheogorath turned to me.

"Wondering why I let her go, aren't you?"

"I am," I admitted. "I didn't understand half of what she said, though."

"I can see it in your face. Mostly in the eyes. I may take those from you when this is done." He winked at me jokingly. "This has never happened before! The ruler of Dementia turning traitor? Unprecedented! I've seen others defect, but never a Duke! Maybe we're on to something here. We'll see how it plays out. It can't be worse than what's happened before."

"What... what happened before?" Sheogorath glanced at me. His eyes were human again-- before immediately shifting into slits.

"It's not your place to know, wench! Don't think you can come into my Realm and demand from  _me._ " I opened my mouth to speak. "Don't, Regina. Jyggalag isn't your concern. Order isn't your concern. Nothing is your concern!" He vanished in a puff of smoke, and I remained where I was, uncertainty and sorrow icing my blood.

Without saying another word, I walked home, clutching my Ring of Lordship.

...  
  
  


I sat on Hirrus's-- well, my-- bed and curled my arms around my knees.Of course I wanted to be someone of worth... but if that's what it meant to have power... I didn't want it. What if my mother was like that?! Did she kill people as the Dragonborn?! Endless questions ran through my mind before it hit me.  _I traded a man's life for power. All for power..._  
  


(~~~)  
  
  


I paced around the room, trying to stop the flow of paranoia that refused to leave me. What if someone broke in here? What if they--no. I shook off the insanity and looked in the mirror again. Inside, I saw only myself... with long, stringy black hair and a sweat-doused face. My skin was too white, and my lips too red with blood from biting them. I was ugly. A murderer.

_Hello, Regina,_ my reflection sneered, and I stepped back in complete shock.  _Look at you. You want to be a queen, to have everyone bow before you... and you're frightened at the sight of pain. If you want them on their knees, for their necks to break from looking at the ground... then you must cause the pain. But you cannot stand what you must do. You understand why, don't you?_

"Leave me alone," I growled angrily. "You're not real."

_Aren't I? Worthless. Weak. You're quite the enigma. You feel like your life isn't anything to care about-- yet you have such pride. You think you're an amazing woman, yet you're really nothing but a little bitch who goes crying at everything. You're an attention whore. You fake illnesses and emotions. Are you a feeling young lady? Or are you an emotionless freak who can't feel remorse or sympathy? Everything you've done has been wrong. If you had listened, you wouldn't even be here. Or maybe you belong here... Nobody loves you._

"That's not true! My parents love me! I know it!"

_Then why haven't they come for you?_  I stopped dead, my eyes beginning to water.

I couldn't take it anymore. I slammed my fist into the mirror, cracking it through the glass. My distorted reflection smiled darkly. _That's right. You can't continue to ignore your flaws. Do you know why? If you try to get rid of them, you'll die. Yes, you're nothing but one big flaw. A mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake._

I let out a scream that sent a ringing in my ears. I tore down the glass, my hands bleeding heavily from the sharp edges. Ignoring the pain, I continued until the mirror was nothing but rubble on the ground. Yet at the same time, I could see my broken reflection in the shards. I melted them with a strong gout of fire. The words echoed in my head.

_Broken...worthless... flawed..._ I made a decision. If no one cared about me,if I was truly worthless... then there was only one path. My eyes flicked around and fixed themselves on a large piece of the mirror I'd missed. I raised it above my head and swung downwards.  
  
  
  
  
  
  


(~~~)

"What do you think you're doing?!" His voice rumbled in my ear as he held my hand back, his grip stronger than my force. He pressed on my wrist, and I released the glass with a reluctant sigh. "What the absolute  _hell_ are you doing?!" His free hand wrapped itself around my midriff.

"Destroying something that was never meant to exist," I hissed, trying to escape his intoxicating grip. He stayed strong, refusing to release me.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Do you realize what you could have done?!"

"By existing, I have thrown off the balance of the future."

"No. Regina, listen to me." He whirled me around and grasped my arms tightly. His eyes shone with tears, something I never would have expected. "If you died, the Isles would die along with you. As the new Duchess, you are tied to the land." He wound his fingers in my hair, and his breath was warm on my cheek as his voice lowered into a whisper. "Don't do this."

"I have to," I replied weakly. "I'm a murderer." Suddenly, I was angry. "Because of you. Dammit, Sheogorath!" I tore myself from his grasp. "At your behest, I gave up morality for power! You asked me to kill a man, and I did! I did it for  _you_ , Sheogorath, I've done everything for you! All you're worried about is your next entertaining moment! What was I, cannon fodder? I killed him because I thought that I was something, but I learned that to you, I am nothing!! You won't even tell me what you fucking want!! For all I know, I--" I never finished my sentence. Sheogorath stopped my speech by lunging forwards, holding me tightly and pressing his lips to mine passionately in a deep kiss.


	15. Sheogorath

**SHEOGORATHPOV**

My head swam with thoughts. I'd saved Regina from herself... and kissed her. Damn all things. I wasn't supposed to express my feelings for her.

"My Lord?" I came back to reality.

"Haskill," I said curtly.

"Aren't You supposed to prepare for the Greymarch?" he queried, his golden necklace swinging from his neck.

"Yes." My mood was quickly souring. The need for a champion was great; stopping the Greymarch would require said champion. As in, Regina. I wasn't about to send her into such great danger. "Perhaps I'll let it slide this once." I'd never seen such shock on my chamberlain's face.

"My Lord... should You prepare, do it quickly. You are... becoming Jyggalag again." I pressed my fingers to my temples.

"Is it by fault of mine?" I inquired, removing my hand and fixing him with a glare. "Is it by my own fault that my love was stolen? That I was turned from a great and mighty Prince to a sniveling coward, surrounded by madness?!" Haskill was taken aback. "Oh, what a punishment!"

"Lord..."

"Silence!" I roared.

"Sheogorath?" My anxiety melted at the sound of my Duchess' sweet voice. Regina stood with a hand on my throne. She cupped my face, her fingernails curving along my chin.

"Forgive me," I mumbled to her. "Please."

"Don't worry," she reassured me. I stood up and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Regina," I began, "are you... fond of me?" She seemed surprised at my words.

"Well, yes."

"What would you be willing to do on my behalf?" My golden gaze bored into hers.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I do need you, Regina... I need you to stop me."

"From what?" Regina seemed completely bewildered.

"From becoming myself. Regina, the Greymarch is coming... and you are my Champion. I need you... to save the Isles."

"This is my home now." Was that sorrow I heard in her voice? "I'll do what I can."

...  
  



	16. Retaking the Fringe

**REGINAPOV**

Sheogorath opened his mouth, but no words came out. I felt pity for him, but also a warm desire, like an electric shock that traveled through my fingertips all the way through my body. He was interrupted by a Golden Saint running into the throne room.

"My Lord!" she cried out, her breathing labored. "The forces of Order-- they've risen up! They've taken over the Fringe. Crystals-- massive, massive crystals-- are blocking homes, and--" Sheogorath held up a fine pale hand, and the guard halted.

"Thank you. I will send reinforcements." His sentences were clipped, as though the words hurt him. She nodded and walked out the door, limping on her right side. He turned to Haskill. "What happened after I returned with Regina?" Haskill paused, as though he didn't want to say. "Out with it, or out come the intestines!"

"As I said, Lord... You became Jyggalag once more." Sheogorath slumped back on his throne in a most un-kingly manner.

"Regina... forgive me. But it is time to fulfill your promise to defend the Isles. Or the Icicles... no, no, the Isles." I wasn't surprised. I'd gathered as much. "You're not... upset?"

"I'm glad I get to serve you and this land," I replied with fervor. "Tell me what to do." He tapped his chin before an icy resoluteness gathered in his eyes.

"...I've changed my mind. I will not send you out." My heart thudded.

"But Passwall--"

"Will have to fall. I'm sorry." I frowned at his lack of concern for his town, not to mention the people there.

"A-as you wish, Lord."  _Orders be damned. I'm going to help them._

I waited until later that night. When I was certain I wouldn't be caught, I silently padded into the throne room.To my surprise, Sheogorath and Haskill were still awake, and speaking angrily.

...

**HASKILLPOV**

"Haskill?!"

"Lord."

"I don't believe you're aware... she is mine. Just as mine as brain pie."

"I know, Lord." My heart sank. Despite all my loyalties to Him, my love for the beautiful Nord grew every day. Already it rivaled Him. Soon, it would undoubtedly overtake it. "She is a good match for you."

"Oh?"

"Indeed." But the thought of someone as capricious and insane as Sheogorath holding Regina, kissing her,  _taking_ her... it was too much. An urge to defend the young woman rose in me. "I have a game for You, Lord."

"I do enjoy games." Now that Regina was gone, He'd fogged again. Back to Sheogorath.

"The first one Regina says "I love you" to can keep her, love her, and cherish her." Surely, some way or another, I would get her to choose me.

"Really? If you lose, I get to rip out your heart and play handball with my lovely subjects." I swallowed nervously.  _It won't matter,_  I thought.  _If she does not choose me, then life will not be worth living._

"As You desire, Lord."

"Excellent! And if you win... What am I saying? I never lose! Or is it never win? Oh, I always win." My heart sank.

...

**REGINAPOV**

I bit my lip, hearing every word they said.  _Dammit, Haskill..._  I did not love either of them. At least, not yet. I cared for Sheogorath more than anyone else in my life, but that wasn't love. Either way... I didn't want Haskill to die. He was a trusted friend, and if Sheogorath took his life, then... tears welled up in my eyes, and I forced them down.  _No, Regina,_  I scolded myself.  _Your job is_ not _to find romance in a Daedric Prince-- or his chamberlain. You need to help the guards at the Fringe._

Sheogorath got up and walked to his own chambers, but Haskill remained a tad longer, looking thoroughly pensive. I focused on my crouch, stepping quietly. Thankfully, the door opened and closed quietly.

I stopped by my house and equipped a mage's robe. The armor had been mighty uncomfortable, and my ward spells were enough to protect me.

...

It had been tiresome, walking all the way across the Isles. But once I was there, I realized the urgency of the Golden Saint's request. Crystals of varying size jutted out from the land, ruining the once-beautiful sights. The steps were cracked, and the tangling undergrowth was dead. In a word, it all looked bleak.

One of the Golden Saints, a male, I realized with a small shock, looked up at me with fear in his yellow catlike eyes.

"Have you brought reinforcements?"

"I am the reinforcement," I told him. His face fell. "Please, you've got to trust me-- and Sheogorath." I spotted the commander and made my way over to her. However, a loud battle cry behind me alerted me to a fight. Several gray, spiky knights were storming through the Saints, yowling in anger. I set down a Fire Rune in the blink of an eye, destroying two that headed my way. The third died as a group of Golden Saints teamed up, slashing left and right to kill. Blood stained the ground.

"I need to speak with your commander."

"That would be me, Aurig Desha." I turned around, seeing the Golden Saint woman I'd seen before. "Your Grace." I bowed at my new title. "A dark time has been thrust upon us. Passwall is under attack. We are outmatched and outnumbered," she said worriedly.  _At least this one seems humble-- or perhaps it's just the fact that I'm the new Duchess of Mania._ "At first light, the spire at the center of town became active. Immediately, the area around it began to crystallize and change. Soon after that, the sky darkened and the knights came.

I glanced around, the damage to the town evident. "How do we stop this?"

"I have an idea how we might be able to stop them, but for now we must survive. I've been losing Aureals with each attack, and I'm down to nothing but men." I hid a smile at how Aurig seemed to complain about the gender of her troops, her tone almost one of disgust. "We are pinned down here. If we lose, the Gates of Madness will fall." I quickly sobered up. "If the gates fall, the enemy will flood into the Isles. We will be helpless to stop them. But now that you've arrived, perhaps we can slow them down."

"What must we do?"

"We cannot talk now-- we don't have very long until the next wave arrives. Even though I have served with these Aureals for centuries, as the Duchess of Mania, it is your right to command the troops." Her voice was slightly bitter. "Command them if you will, or leave it to me. Either way, make haste. Our time is short."

"How do I issue orders?"

"Speak to each of the Aureals to give them your orders. The front line will arm themselves with axes of war. They will hold the line against the enemy's charge. Those who you designate as archers will head to the rear and keep their distance when the enemy draws close. Those with blades and shields will hold the flank. When the enemy comes close, they will close in and attack."

"Stand aside. I'll command the troops."

"As you wish, Your Grace." I smiled and approached one of the men. By reading literally hundreds of war books, I knew just what strategy to use.

"I'll need you in the back with a bow. Take two others with you to stand as archers." He nodded and readied a shimmering golden bow. "You three over there!" Three Golden Saint men halted in their conversation. "I'm going to set a few magical traps. I'll need you to be ready with your axes in case any of them make it through." They nodded in assent. I glowed with pride. Aurig Desha bowed her head to me as I made my way towards the great black spike of the crystal and set down three Shock Runes. Behind them, four Fire Runes and a single Frost Rune.

Within seconds, a new group of the Order Knights burst through, and just as I'd predicted, they all were slaughtered by my runes. However, I hadn't anticipated an entire horde of another group just behind them. Luckily, I'd set out my troops well. I roasted one alive in his own armor, while an arrow pierced one right through its forehead. Golden weapons flashed left and right, and blood flew.

Thankfully, after each and every one was dead, there were no fatalities, other than the previously slain and the Knights of Order, of course. I strode up to Aurig Desha.

"Victory is ours... for the moment. We must discuss our next move. The spire is obviously their source of power. This battle will not end until we find a way to shut it down." I looked down at the dead knights.

"How do we do that?"

"I am not certain. But do not lose heart." She opened her mouth to say something else but I stopped her.

"That's an idea..." I mumbled. "Do you know what powers any Daedra?"

"Of course," she scoffed, slightly insulted. "Our hearts."

"What happens if something is charged with too much power to operate? Let's say for instance, I was focusing on Necromancy." It was certainly a common, and understandable, topic for a Daedra. "What would happen if I sent too much force into the body of, say, a Grummite?"

"It would not function." I smiled and saw understanding dawn on her face. "Are you saying..."

"Yes." I bent down and stuck my hand between the knight's chest and tore out a gray heart. It was cold as stone. "I'll go in and find the source of their power. If they originate from there, perhaps too many will overtake it."

"How are you so sure of machinery-- or magic?"

"I've studied magic my entire life. Dwarven ruins were also quite fascinating."  _To my mother's great chagrin,_  I thought.

"Brilliant," the Golden Saint praised. "The ruins of Xeddefen run under Passwall. The entrance to the south of the town has been sealed for centuries. One of my scouts reported that the ruins have been opened recently and a number of these Knights are now guarding the entrance."

"Did you send the scout inside?"

"I did, but she has not returned." I winced. "Indeed, I too fear the worst."

"What are you thinking?"

"If we attempt to assault Xeddefen, Passwall will be overrun and we will lose the Fringe. Additionally, our forces are dangerously thin. We have no idea what opposition may await us inside."

"Then I'll go," I stated boldly. "I won't let this town fall!"

"Excellent, Your Grace. While we draw their attention here, you should be able to slip inside Xeddefen. Once inside, search for the source of the Spire's power. It must be underground somewhere. Once you find it, destroy it. Good luck, Your Grace. May the truth light your way through the darkness." I nodded and headed out for Xeddefen's entrance.

...

Ahead of me was the quiet back entrance to the ruins of Xeddefen. There were no guards, to my relief. However, it looked almost malicious in the way it towered over me. I swallowed my trepidation and opened the ancient wooden door.

The pathway curved to the left immediately, and I held out my hand, summoning a dark flare spell. It was too dark to draw the attention of any enemies, but powerful enough to smite them should the need arise. What was I thinking? Of course the need would arise.

The ground shook suddenly with a shattered, and utterly  _frightening,_

"REGINA!" I winced. The Madgod was infuriated.  _I can't turn back now._  I ignored the summons and kept walking. In the first clearing, dead Grummites were around a brazier on the floor. I bit my lip and moved on to the room ahead.

A gate was set up to my right, and I searched for an activator to open the bars. Nothing. Hell, it wasn't even a gate. However, in the urns I spotted the glint of gold, and the dusty gleam of potions. I took both.

The room I found myself in was massive-- and eerie.  _No Knights yet,_  I thought to myself, a dreadful sense of foreboding rising in my lithe body.  _I'm not sure if that's entirely good._ A blue fire in a pillar had blood pooling at the bottom, and the hairs at the back of my neck rose up.

I opened up a locked door with a spell, and was greeted by a spiked gray Knight of Order. Suddenly fearful, I threw the flare at him. He collapsed, and I ripped the heart from his body. It dripped with silver blood, and I had to force down nausea.

Suddenly, I didn't  _want_  the heat of combat.  _Thanks dad,_  I thought wryly as I snuck past an entire group of the Knights of Order. Ahead was the door to the inner sanctum, the fane of Xeddefen. Once inside, I immediately pressed myself to the wall as they stormed past, too focused on their current goal to pay much attention to the shape molded to the wall.

I sighed in relief and pressed on. I walked up a set of stairs and was immediately ambushed by a Knight. I yelped in shock and let a spike of ice fly from my palms, impaling it through the stomach. It gurgled as it fell to the ground, the ice shattering from the force. I tore out its heart as well. Thankfully, the door behind was to the Great Chamber of Xeddefen.

Criscrossed iron bars covered a room, where a great glowing obelisk stood.  _That must be where these damn Knights are coming from,_  I realized, slinking in the shadows. A torch flashed in my face, and I squinted.

"It's... it's you!"  _Oh, no..._ I cursed my poor luck. "I remember you. What are you doing down here? How did you get past the Knights? When they attacked, I ran from Passwall. They didn't say a word, they just started killing! The screams! By the staff, you can't imagine the screams!"

"Well, some mayor  _you_  were, Shelden." I curled my lip upwards at the Redguard.  _Mom told me about an old annoyance... Nazir? No, Nazeem. I wonder if Shelden and Nazeem are related._ "Poor, poor baby. Saw the town slaughtered."  _And a shame you weren't among the dead._

"Felas and I slipped down here thinking that we'd be safe. But, no! We landed right in the middle of them! Felas ran off with them and left me to die! Me! That ingrate! Disloyal cur! Imagine, leaving me here all alone!"  _Oh, I can imagine it, alright... and it's a wonderful thought._

"Yes," I simpered. "Because you are so very important, so much more so than the people who actually work for Passwall's well-being."

"Exactly! I-- wait, what?"

"Nothing. So they took Felas?"

"I didn't say they took him-- he went with them! I've heard his voice a few times around here. I think... I think he joined them!" 

"But you can't really blame him. He was frightened, and his life meant more to him than yours. Why haven't you tried to escape?"

"Every time I look for a way out, I get twisted around and end up back here. But I'm too smart for them," he said proudly. I rolled my eyes.

"Obviously, because you've exerted your  _control_  over them as the almighty mayor of a dead town. How the hell haven't you managed to get out, oh-holy-leader?" Shelden frowned, as though he couldn't decide whether or not I was being sarcastic.

"You seem to have no trouble, though. Look at you, barely a scratch! You'd be the perfect person to protect me!"

"Me?" I scoffed in disbelief. "Help  _you_? Excuse my elvish, but you're an asshole. You're a coward."

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't aware that being a courageous hero was a requirement around here."

"No, it's not, but being selfless and respectful is." Shelden ignored me.

"Look, you may be a scamp's ass--"

"Here's a hint-- don't insult the person you want help from, dick."

"I'm offering you the chance to be the hero of Passwall! Escort me out of here, protect me, get me home,and those people will praise you more than you can imagine."

"What people? They're  _dead_ because you're a shitty mayor. I'm already the Duchess of Mania," I hissed. "And I'm not here for the glory. I'm here to save this town. Unfortunately, that includes you. I'm not in this to save someone who's a bigger fuck-up than the Thalmor. But why the hell not? Come with me, don't open your cake hole, and I just might not fry you from the inside." I curled my fingers angrily.

"I'll do what I can to help. I... I like to hurt things."

"What, like your career?" I muttered.

"Maybe I can hurt these damned knights."

"And maybe I'm a Daedric Prince," I snorted. "Take your damn torch down."

"But it's scary in the dark!" Shelden whined, shockingly similar to a petulant child who wasn't getting their way. "I can't believe you'd ask  _me_  to do something that could possibly threaten my own feelings of security."

"You're going to get us killed!" I shot a blast of frost at the torch. The heat turned it into steam, successfully putting it out. Shelden's breathing became even faster, and I sighed in annoyance. "As long as we stay out of sight, we'll be fine."

"Too cowardly to face them? Why, I'm--"

"A disappointment to everyone around you. Now shut the hell up." I cast a spell, and his tongue appeared in my hand. His eyes nearly bugged out of his throat, and he lunged for it. I made it vanish. "If you want it back, then you've got to do exactly what I say." I turned around. "Really, I should've done this a few months ago." I crept along the pathway and peered into the room below.

"Aalgh! Ah!" Shelden screeched. The Knights of Order down below snapped their heads up and drew their weapons.

"Gods!" I kicked his groin. My anger rose, and I incinerated an entire line of the Knights. However, one managed to fend off my arcane blaze.  _So, it's magic versus magic? Let's see who's the better student, shall we?_  I shot a blast of electricity towards the Priest, whose ward reduced it to sparks. I gathered the Hearts of Order and threw them into the pillar. The entire building shook, and the Obelisk crumbled to the ground. The Priest stared at the rubble, and though he/she was wearing a mask, I could imagine the shock.

Speaking of... they stepped into my Shock Rune and electrocuted to death. The walls continued to shake.  _I've got to get out, now!_

"Shelden! Get your ass over here if you want to live! Come on, follow me!" He looked like he wanted to make a scathing retort, but the lack of a tongue made it difficult to form words. I leaped up the stairs, avoiding a sudden rockfall. "Dammit!" Rocks had collapsed in front of the door. On the other side was a fleshy wall. I pushed it open.  _If these rocks are going to keep coming down, I should at least have someone to give me forewarning._ I returned the tongue to its owner, sighing in annoyance as he chattered about how rude that was.

On the other side was a wood hallway, like the root of a tree. It didn't last long, quickly changing back into age-worn stone. I narrowly avoided a blast of rocks, cursing to myself. Ahead was a root tunnel, and I scurried down the wooden path. It led to another stone room, and I found myself having to defend myself and the helpless Shelden from more Knights of Order.  _I'm starting to think this was a terrible, terrible idea..._

The gate was closed, to be opened remotely. I headed down another path, pushing on a face button. It opened up, giving me just enough time to hurry through-- trapping Shelden behind.

"I don't think this thing is going to open again," he panted incredulously, pulling at the bars. "You are the worst escort in history. I'll find another way out. Get going!"

"Up yours, assbutt."

...

I escaped through another door and was crushed by a huge rockfall. It killed a Knight, and I found myself relying on the meager potions I'd found to survive. My bones snapped back together, and my torn skin knitted itself into a smooth, unbroken mass. I gritted my teeth as the pain hit me, and I shoved the stones off. I was out of potions, and Restoration wasn't exactly my favorite school. Sure, I  _had_  the spells, just not much skill. I was much better at Destruction.

"Hey, is that you?" My heart sank again.  _Dammit._ "Well, look at this!" Shelden chortled. "I found the easy road. How are things going over there?"

"Go suck a Grummite," I growled, turning around and hurrying. Nearly crushed by another rockfall-- and another, and another. At last, I managed to get out into the dawn light. Unfortunately, finding myself face-to-face with Shelden.

"You're alive?" he gasped.

"Miss me?"

"Not much."

"The feeling is mutual."

"I'm going to stay here and help rebuild this place. These fools need me."

"Like a sword through the gut." I ignored his protests and continued along to the town. Aurig Desha was ahead, and I blasted the Knights ahead with magic. When they were all dead, I approached the Daedra commander. Her eyes widened with shock.

"I... I cannot believe it! You survived! We were certain that your light had been lost!"

"What can I say? My torch can't be blown out."

"I apologize for doubting you, Your Grace," she pleaded. "You are a most worthy leader, perhaps the greatest warrior to ever hold the Seat of Mania." I puffed up my chest in pride.

"Thank you, Aurig." Her face turned worried.

"But I fear that our work is not yet done. The area is still overrun with Knights that were not destroyed in the spire. You should return to the Palace and speak with Sheogorath. Ask Him how He plans to defend this Realm." My hands shook with the thought of returning to the golden-eyed god. How would he react? Certainly he wouldn't kill me for my disobedience.

Right?

...

This time, I entered through the Mania side. My legs were tired, my body bloody, and my arms aching. I drank a potion to restore my magicka and summoned Arvak. I climbed on the bony horse and spurred him on.

We reached the palace by midday. When I dismounted, the ghoulish horse disintegrated. The Golden Saints and Dark Seducers nodded to me happily as I passed. When I took my first step on the stone stairs, I half-expected the Madgod to appear and explode. But I made it into the throne room without incident.

The throne room itself, however, was very different. Sheogorath waited before me, fury evident on his face as he sat in his throne.

"News of your success in the Fringe precedes you," he growled, placing a thin hand on his staff, his mouth twisting into a snarl.

"Sheogorath, I--"

"No, Regina! WHAT in the name of ALL THINGS INSANE were you THINKING?!"

"I was thinking of your town," I replied, crying out as pain shot through my leg, the one that'd been smashed by the falling rocks. His face was washed clean of anger, replaced by concern as I stumbled. He caught me before I hit the ground, and I clutched at him weakly.

"Regina," he cooed, "why did you place yourself in such danger? I told you to stay at the palace." I smiled. "At the palace, there wouldn't have been awful things to tear you limb from limb and eat your fingers with toast."

"It's true, but-- no, you didn't." Blood ran down my lip, and he waved a hand over my body. The pain was replaced by blissfully cool relief.

"I explicitly said--"

"That you're not sending me out. But I sent myself out, Sheogorath." He paused, thinking through.

"Oh, dear heart," he murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. I closed my eyes. "Have I ever told you that you were absolutely amazing? And that nobody else would have come out of that in one piece? If you'd been anyone else, I'd be skipping rope with your intestines."

Sheogorath smiled at me and helped me up. I noticed Haskill in the shadows, his posture straight and mourning. I didn't give him a second thought. I was exhausted, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with this kind of drama. "I'm willing to help however I can... after I sleep."

...

The bed was feather-light, the sleep blissful, and the dreams utterly terrifying. I couldn't recall much, only a feeling of pure horror and loneliness. Abandonment.

I awoke to Sheogorath's kind face.

_All my life, I wanted some order, some way to fit in,_  I reflected, sitting up.  _Maybe what I really needed was a little bit of beautiful insanity._ I grinned again, pulling myself up. On the bedside was a chain with small black orbs, all exactly the same size. I realized it was a black pearl necklace on a golden chain. "Oh," I breathed lightly, lifting it up. I moved it around my neck, the midnight-colored pearls winking at my throat.

"I trust you like it?"

"Thank you." I beamed and threw my arms around his neck. Overall... this man, god, whatever he was... "Thank you."

"Anything for you," he muttered into my hair, kissing my temple. "If you have ever need for something, I'll be here for you."

"And I for you," I promised. Something clouded his gaze, and I pulled back slightly. "What's wrong? Did I say something?"

"No, Regina," he sighed, kissing my cheek lightly. "You did nothing. Unfortunately... it's something I've done."

"What's wrong?"

"Regina, I'm not..." the words seemed to choke in his throat. "Will you truly defend my Realm?"

"Of course. It's my home." With a jolt, I realized how true it was. Skyrim was the land I was born, the land I was raised, but this was my true home.

"Then if you, if  _any_  of us want a chance to survive, then you must do what you can, what you  _must_ , to protect us all. I... I hate to ask this of you, Regina. I have an important task for you to perform." Immediately, I slid out of the bed and into my traveling boots.

"Anything."

"You will seek the assistance of Relmyna Verenim in Xaselm to rebuild the Gatekeeper. You remember the creature you killed to get in here?"

"Of course."

"With the Gatekeeper restored and Xedilian in operation, we won't have to worry about anything getting in. Things already here... are another matter. You'll need to speak with Relmyna Verenim. She'll help you with your task. Strange woman," he remarked. "Has some unusual tastes. With that done, the Fringe should be secure. For now. I can feel things start to get a little hairy. And, not in the good way, like on your head." I smiled at the Madgod and left the room, lingering a bit by the doorway before departing.

...

 


	17. Rebuilding the Gatekeeper

Relmyna was  _pissed_ when I killed her Gatekeeper, to say the least. She spoke of how I killed her son, and how terrible I was. I could understand her fury. If I had a child, and someone killed him, then I wouldn't just seek revenge, I would make them feel the same pain.

Xaselm was near the ruins of Passwall.  _Great job Shelden's doing to fix this place._  Even my sarcasm in my head was amusing. Inside were the skeletal creatures known as Shambles, vaguely humanoid-looking beasts with the heads of deer-like creatures. I burned them and opened the rusty door to Xaselm.

The path was fairly simple at first, just a gate up ahead. But beyond that gate was an entire nest of the buggers. Left and right, I killed the bony monsters. I narrowly avoided a red draining blast from a Hunger statue on the wall.

I got turned around partway through, and I winced as a scream echoed through the ancient building. Then  _I_  screamed like a little girl. I'd run into a torn-up zombie, except that it was hardly a zombie. It was sewn up, and I realized that it was strikingly familiar to the Gatekeeper. I tried burning it alive and choked on the disgusting odor of burning flesh.  _That was creepy as hell._

I bit my lip in annoyance as I was forced to fight a Skinned Hound and more fleshy atronachs.  _Are all of these what experiments have gone wrong?!_

...

I finally reached Relmyna-- who was brutally torturing a female subject. She was stripped nearly naked, and the horrid Dunmer woman was blasting her with spells.

"Please, let it end! Oh, it hurts, it-- aaugh!" the experiment-woman shrieked, agonized.

"Don't worry, if you die, I will bring you back to life. We have much left to accomplish." I stared at her, dumbfounded. I shook out of my stupor and approached the auburn-haired Dark Elf. She immediately fixed me with a furious glare.

"You! I remember you! You're the adventurer who slew my Gatekeeper, are you not?!"

"Yes, I slew him," I admitted, expecting the magic blast she sent out at me. I held up a ward. "I needed to get in."

"The ends justify the means, do they?! You'll pay for that one day! Now, by all means, come right in, walk in here as if you own the place... By what authority do you disturb me?!"

"By my authority as Duchess," I announced. Her face cleared, and I was relieved that she'd quit the hostility.

"Ah, that confirms it. You're the new Duke. The stink of hubris surrounds you!" She was pissing me off. I may have been somewhat in the wrong, but her attitude towards a Duchess was entirely inappropriate. "My Lord allows you to lick his boot straps, does he?" I glared at this... whore. The thought of that arrogant  _bitch_  touching  _my_ king, even from so long ago, stirred up such an anger unknown to me.

"No, but he does allow me to kiss his lips, his neck..." I trailed off pointedly, staring at Sheogorath's former concubine.

"Well, then," she growled. "I trust my servants didn't give you too hard a time getting here. Perhaps the  _Duchess_  would like to explain her business?"

"A new Gatekeeper is required, milady."

"Ah, your tone is more in line with my station."

"What station?" I scoffed. "Ex-lover?" Relmyna's face scrunched up in distaste.

"Please... continue."

"Will you lend us your oh-so-powerful magic?" I drawled. "After all, only someone as screwed-up in the head as you could make such an abomination."

"It is proper that you bid me kindly, lest I show you the meaning of pain and suffering."

"How much would you want to bet that I'm more skilled than you in every area of magic?"

"Oh, I hardly believe you! You look like you haven't cast a spell in your--" I cut her short with one of my most powerful spells for a split second, and she shrieked in agony.

"Don't worry, if you die, I will bring you back to life. We have much left to accomplish," I snarled, watching the woman double over in pain. She gasped like a fish out of water, slowly climbing to her feet. Dare I say it? Was that...  _respect_  in her eyes? 

"So you do know of the arcane. Have you tried mixing an electric spell with a fire rune? The results can be quite... hmm, shocking." I grinned at the pun.

"I have. But did you know that if you're using a spell to resurrect the dead and add in a bit of Fire Salts, it can give them the power to set themselves aflame?" Relmyna tapped her chin.

"I didn't! How useful." We'd formed a strange bond in that moment-- odd, given that a few seconds before we were at each other's throats. A bright light shone in her eyes. This woman was entirely brilliant, though her arrogance made her irritable at first. Then again, aren't I the same way? Her expression turned. "Alas, I am still distraught over the destruction of my sweet child. I cannot return to his womb. You must do this. You will travel to the Gardens of Flesh and Bone. There, you will gather mystical components needed for the ceremony. Go fetch me Blood Liqueur, Osseous Marrow, Dermis Membrane, and Essence of Breath."

"I don't suppose these are just lying around, are they?" I mumbled weakly, and Relmyna shook her head. "Damn."

"Take this key. It will allow entry into the Gardens and give you direct access to my Sanctum. Now, Nanette? Find me some Fire Salts!" The fancily-clad woman hurried in with the required item, handing the bowl to Relmyna before turning to me.

"You are here to help rebuild the Gatekeeper. That is very good of you... considering what you did to him. So many strange noises here. People screaming. Animals dying. But I've learned so much... so much."

I bit my lip and walked out the side entrance.

...

The Gardens of Flesh and Bone were still open from my last entrance. I did have to use a key for the door in, though. I opened the metal door and flinched as I caused the ceiling to collapse behind me. I ran into a flesh atronach and used a shock spell to kill it. I ran into a root tunnel and tried burning the twisted roots that blocked my path. They were protected by something. I nearly smacked myself as I noticed a pull pod that let the vines slide easily back into their sheathes.

It led into a stone tunnel, where a skeleton waited to destroy all trespassers. However, I was better equipped to kill an old bag of bones than he was to kill an ultra-powerful mage like myself, yes?  _By the Nine, I'm acting prideful..._

I opened a metal door to what I identified as the Conservatorium Corpusculum.  _This must be where the skin is._  It opened to a stone tunnel that immediately turned into a root tunnel. I was unable to hit the pull pod just outside, and fought off the Shambles and flesh atronach. The path twisted and turned, and I continued to have to move around between stone and roots. I leaped down and grabbed the mushroom-looking Dermis Membrane. I turned around and jumped back up.

More than one of the pathways led to another dead end, and the open one was littered with atronachs and Skinned Hounds. I walked up a tree-like pathway to find the skeletal tree that carried Osseous Marrow. _Two more,_  I reassured myself.

I walked straight into a Shambles and made it disintegrate.

A green mist permeated the air, making it hard to breathe. I followed the odd-looking substance, hoping that it led to the Essence of Breath.  _Then again, why would Essence of Breath make it harder?_

Unfortunately, the turns of this particular root tunnel were more confusing than Labyrinthian. The component I was looking for was sure to be along with the green fog trail. Thankfully, it wasn't long before I ran into a large chamber with a strange-looking vortex inside of a few twisted brambles. I retrieved the bottle and placed it into the green fog, gathering the Essence of Breath. A nearby hollow stump held a Base Ring of Freedom. I slipped it on, feeling the enchantment of a paralysis resistance take hold. There was also a sapphire, scroll, amber, and what I could only identify as a matrix for an arrow set.  _Interesting._

...

The roots opened up, and I made it to the final section. The Natatorium of Wound Bled Tears.  _That's definitely the blood._ I killed the Decrepit Shambles and shifted to the right, avoiding the spike-shooting plant. It shifted into a stone building, and I was relieved that the root tunnels seemed to be over. Ahead was a chest, with nothing inside. I tried opening the door, sighing to find that it was to be opened elsewhere. The switch was on the front. I walked into a room filled with blood. Blood was all over the floor, the disgusting metallic scent clinging to my nose. I collected the vial of Blood Liqueur and headed back the way I'd come.

Luckily for me, there was a door leading directly to the entrance-- just after a skeleton, Shambles, and about ten flesh atronachs. I slaughtered everything that moved and pulled on the pod to open the brambles blocking my path. Finally, I exited the damn "Gardens" and headed back to Xaselm.

...

I wandered through Xaselm, accidentally going into Nanette Don's chambers... where two green, rotting corpses kept her company as she slept.  _That's not messed up at all._

I found Relmyna looking at a few dead bodies on stone tables and taking notes. She looked up at me. "You have returned with the components? Excellent. All that remains is to choose the body parts."

"Body parts? So... I won't have to be impregnated?"

"Oh, no. I wasn't. But it was still a hard birth. Sheogorath gave me the means to have the child. Fearing one day someone might manage to kill my child, I have been preparing a new body. I've created versions of each appendage, with various enhancements. You must choose one of each. I am attached to them all." Here, she stopped to sound immensely proud. "Artist's prerogative."

"Lovely. Just lovely." I chewed on the side of my mouth and walked away.

"Don't take all day making your choices," she advised. I nodded rapidly and hurried away, wondering what lay ahead. Surely something entirely gory and terrible.

Sure enough, when I got to the attachment chamber, I saw bloody pieces. I could choose between Helm of Power or Angry Mind, one for a bloodthirsty Gatekeeper, and the other for a smarter, magelike one. I felt proud as I chose the Angry Mind, hoping that whatever it was I was making would be a mage, just like its... well, its mother. I laughed out loud, knowing that technically it was true, however disgusting.

The hearts were the Heart of Wound Sharing and the Heart of Spell Turning. I chose the Spell Turning, to reflect all magic from my "baby" to the attacker. Gods, this was messed up. The chests were the Breast of Life and the Breast of Magic. Obviously, all-too-obviously, I chose the Breast of Magic. The right arms had the Arm of Bashing, the Arm of Chopping, and the Arm of Slashing. I decided on the Arm of Slashing. The others had Frost Shielding, Shock Shielding, and Fire Shielding. The most common magic used was Fire, but that was by people, not Knights. I decided on Shock. The last thing I wanted was some electric spell to leech out the magicka that would power my Gatekeeper.

The very last element was the legs. The Legs of Nimbleness or the Legs of Fortitude. I chose the Legs of Nimbleness, that way it would be able to chase the attackers down and kill them. I carried the bloody body parts and returned to Relmyna.

"You've made your selection. Now we travel to the statue of Our Lord, in the Fringe. There, we will perform the ceremony. Make haste!" I did, eager to rid myself of the disgusting body pieces. 

...

Relmyna followed closely behind, and we both entered the Gates of Madness together. She gathered at the circle in the middle.

"Let's get started."

"Good. First, place the Gatekeeper's body into the Cistern of Substantiation."

"The what?" Behind me, a glorious light shone from the giant circle, and I stared at it in shock, but tossed the body pieces in. "A-alright. Now what?" I shook my arms, relieved to be rid of them.

"At the beginning of the worlds were five. Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Light. Darkness turned into day, the void took form. Hidden away, by virtue of its own self-awareness, was the sixth, containing within it the five which birthed it. Flesh! Meat with the desire to consume like Fire... Place the Dermis Membrane into the cistern. Blood, liquid nutrient, that ocean which casts pearls of life upon the shores of existence...

"Place the Blood Liqueur into the Cistern of Substantiation," she ordered. "Bone, branch and stone of the body, giving shape and structure... Place the Osseous Marrow into the cistern. Breath, child of air, bestowing movement, the stirring of spirit... Place the Essence of Breath into the Cistern of Substantiation. And last, the light of Flesh, the illumination of Soul -- perception, thought, memory, imagination...

"I summon thee, walker in Flesh! Flesh of true Flesh! From those waters of Oblivion which sire thy kind. Come to this altar. Join with this body. Quintessence of Flesh joined with the Essence of Flesh. Absolute in mortal. Immortal bound to contingent.

"Stand clear of the cistern. Over here by me.

"Honored Daedra, fear not thy abasement! Thou shalt be the Holy in this Temple. I bind thee Atronach to this body, henceforth Gatekeeper of the Shivering Isles." A flesh atronach appeared, and slowly stepped into the swirling, glowing vortex.

"My child... no, Regina's child... It is time to fulfill your destiny. Stand guard in this land against all those who seek entry not bearing the mark of Sheogorath's favor. You shall know them by the coldness in their minds. A darkness of spirit. What's this? Oh, child, they are coming. Destroy them! Show them your true power! Watch your child destroy the interlopers, or run to Sheogorath. Either way, tell Him of our doings here. Send Him my tribute... and my affections." She said the last word with a slight growl, as if she believed him to still be hers.

But somehow, my attention was fixed on my Gatekeeper, on-- as weird as it was-- my child. He slaughtered the oncoming Knights of Order, destroying them with a flare spell so powerful it would have rivaled a dragon's. But after they were all dead, he thundered towards me and knelt down. I waited with bated breath.

But instead of cutting me to pieces, this thing moaned and touched his hand to mine. His abilities trickled into my body. I smiled and headed through the Gates to tell Sheogorath about the Gatekeeper.

...

"Sheogorath!" I hurried to the palace, where the Daedric Prince waited in his multicolored throne.

"Regina!" he trilled in excitement, kissing my brow.

"I've created a new Gatekeeper," I explained.

"A new Gatekeeper! Excellent, dear. That should help keep out the stragglers. And I see you've learned to summon Flesh Atronachs! Relmyna must like you, little Duchess... but probably not in  _that_ way. That's my job, you see." He brushed his lips against my cheek, his beard tickling the skin.

"Lord Sheogorath!" I jumped, and Sheogorath sighed. "I apologize for the... er, intrusion, but you must help us! Order has attacked Pinnacle Rock and routed us!" His pupils narrowed, and he grasped my hand.

"Well, well," he murmured. "What a turn of events this is! It's new, and I like new, even if it's bad. And this is bad, isn't it? My, my." He turned to me. "This is a particularly exciting turn of events, is it not? A perfect job for you, my newest and only noble in the realm! If Order has entered my army's stronghold, things have taken a disturbing turn.

"It means Order has tried subterfuge... not its strong suit. Amazing!" Then his voice lowered, and he spoke to himself. "Perhaps things aren't going as poorly as I'd imagined. You'll want to get all the details from the messenger. Unless you already have. You haven't, have you?"

"Why hasn't Jyggalag attacked, himself?"

"Aren't you precious? Do you really not know?"

"I know he's you, Sheogorath."

"It happens every time. The Greymarch starts, Order appears, and I become Jyggalag and wipe out My whole Realm."

"Can we stop it?" I queried.

"Stop it? Oh, no. Can't do it. Believe me, I've tried. It never ends well. But you're still going to stop the Greymarch. Stop Jyggalag... Me... from destroying My Realm."

"When will it happen?"

"Soon. Too soon. I can already feel the change beginning. I feel like I'm not quite here. I'm not over there yet, but I'm not quite here. And I've been having moments of clarity that are quite unlike me. Like now. And when you're around me, dear."

"What do we do now?"

"Now? Nothing has changed!" he exploded, and I stepped back. His expression softened, and he took my hand in his. "You deal with this messenger, love. Make sure my army is secure. You'll need them." I hesitated, but bent down to give him a kiss on his cheek.

"Oh, and Sheogorath? Relmyna sends her love." I searched his expression, fearful of any rejection now that his former concubine was back with her... affection.

"Well, I'll send her my Hungers. Lots of 'em. I hope one of her experiments goes horribly, brutally wrong and rips out her brain. After all... brain pie." I smiled and turned back to the Dark Seducer male.

"Your Grace, there is trouble! You must come quickly!"

"What can I do?" I asked immediately.

"Our stronghold at Pinnacle Rock is under attack! The forces of Order broke in and routed us! You must go to Adeo at once and aid her!"

......

 


	18. The Helpless Army

I summoned Arvak and galloped as swiftly as the violet-flamed equine could manage. When I reached Pinnacle Rock in just over half an hour, I gave Arvak an apple before he crumbled to the ground. A Dark Seducer female I presumed to be Adeo approached me, a panicked look in her eyes. Black hair feathered her fine blue face, and her wolflike eyes stared back at me.

"Thank you for coming. I apologize for summoning you, the blame is mine."

"No worries," I told her. "I wish I'd become the Duchess of Dementia instead, but... it just didn't work out that way, I guess." I smiled at Adeo, but she just frowned grimly.

"That's just it with our Duchess... we've lost control of Pinnacle Rock. Syl let them in... we had no idea she would turn on us." Understanding dawned on me, and I scraped the ground with my boot.  _This is my fault._ "They captured our commander, Dylora, and have her imprisoned somewhere inside. Our first priority must be rescuing her."

"Where is Dylora now?"

"Syl had called her aside, separating her from the group. She meant to divide our numbers when Order entered, making us easier targets." The Dark Seducer began to pace, and I got an idea of just how terrified she was for her beloved commander. "They imprisoned Dylora somewhere within Pinnacle Rock. If they killed her, she could return to us, so they keep her hostage."  _Right. Daedra "respawn", per se._ "If we follow the waters of the Wellspring, we will surely find her."

"What kind of opposition is there?" If we were to beat these sons-of-bitches, then we had to know what we were up against.

"Syl let them in," she spat venomously, curling her fingers into her palms furiously. "More than I could count. It was all we could do to fall back and regroup out here. We must free Dylora as soon as possible. She will know what to do."

"Right. Let's go."

"Forgive me for saying so, Your Grace, but I find taking orders from the Duchess of Mania to be... unsettling." Of course she would, she traveled along the path of Dementia.

"Then don't think of me as the Duchess of Mania," I replied. "Think of me as a friend." Adeo smiled.

"Aye. I can do that. You are the only remaining Duchess, which is a situation quite unprecedented. Normally, you would never be permitted to pass within Pinnacle Rock. Given the need for swift action, the normal customs shall need to be overlooked for now. We shall be right behind you, Your Grace."

...

I walked into the stone structure. The first room was the Hall of Honor. Inside, it looked like any regular dungeon of the Isles. Within the first few steps, I noticed the fallen form of a Dark Seducer in front of a Sheogorath statue. I placed my hand on her cold arm.

"May you return stronger than ever," I said solemnly. The next room held a few Knights of Order, all of which were child's play to get rid of. The Dark Seducer's fury was impossible to withstand. Ahead was a locked gate, just opposite of a crystallized doorway. I followed the straight path to the metal door.

Ahead were a few urns and the door to the next passageway, the Hall of Reverence.

"She must be in here," Adeo whispered to me. We fought through several more Knights and Priests before even more Knights, Knights, and-- what a shock! Knights!

The repetition was getting quite boring. Press the switch, open the metal gate.

Up ahead, I saw Dylora trapped in those odd crystals.

"You must help me!" she pleaded piteously. "The barrier can't be broken by you. It's too tough... use the chime! Ring the chime, and that may shatter it!" I saw it on the other side, a brass tool suspended from the ceiling. I rushed over and slammed a dagger into it, sending out an ear-piercing ring that completely shattered the crystals, allowing Dylora to leap out and draw her weapon.

"You have my thanks for freeing me," she said gratuitously. "But... just who are you?" I took a deep breath. Sheogorath knew this wasn't going to end well.

"I am the Duchess of Mania." To my complete shock, she bowed in reverence.

"Your Grace! I am so sorry, I did not realize..." I held up a hand.

"No need to worry," I told her.

"Where is Syl? Have you seen her? That traitorous coward!" the blue-skinned Daedra hissed.

"What happened here?" I inquired.

"Syl... the snake. She showed up, asked for a contingent of guards. Said there was trouble at the palace, and that we were needed. We were so focused on organizing quickly that by the time we realized she'd let order in herself, it was too late. We were split up and picked off. But it doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters now is the Wellspring. We must reach it at once."

"What Wellspring? What do you mean?"

"The Wellspring of the Mazken. It's what links us to this Realm, where we return to the world from the Waters of Oblivion. If Syl helps Order sever that link... my kind will be annihilated. The realm will be lost to us. We must get to the Wellspring and stop them. I will follow your lead. The Wellspring is at the heart of Pinnacle Rock; follow the waters to reach it. I am yours to command, Your Grace."

"Follow me," I suggested. "We can reach it and sever Syl's head for the brutal murder of the Mazken." I went into the Hall of Devotion. Dylora gasped in shock and clutched at her belly.

"What's wrong?!" I asked in alarm, trying to help her up. But she was heavy, heavy as stone.

"No! The Wellspring... They've stopped it up. You... you must make it to the Wellspring, and let the waters flow..." she stopped mid-sentence and collapsed, her body turning to golden stone. I stared around, seeing all of the Seducer's bodies the same.  _Something has happened to the Wellspring of the Mazken in Pinnacle Rock. I need to proceed on my own to restore it._  I hit the nearby chime to break the crystals blocking my way.

I moved through Pinnacle Rock with a new determination.  _They destroyed the Mazken. My friends. They will pay._ I hacked my way through the Knights guarding the way, leaving them to die in a pool of their own blood. I spat at their corpses for good measure.

Finally, I reached the final chamber: the Font of Rebirth.

...

I opened up the doors by pressing the face-buttons. After what seemed like a thousand Knights of Order and passages of every direction, I found the Wellspring. It was blocked by a wall of crystals. All around were chimes, in each corner. I rang each one, evading the Knights of Order. The crystals cracked apart before crumbling down in a terrible mess of shattered pieces.  _Finally..._   _now I must help Dylora defeat the remnants of the forces of Order._

The Dark Seducers stormed through the doors, midnight weapons flashing. At last, every Knight was slain.  _I should speak to Dylora._

"The Wellspring is restored!" she announced gleefully, pressing her fist to her forehead respectfully. "You, the Duchess of Mania... you have saved us. We are forever grateful, Your Grace. Please, allow me to teach you this spell, so that you may summon our kind to you in times of need." A spell flashed through my mind-- to summon Dark Seducers to my aid. Also, accept this gift of armor. It is the least I can do to show thanks for your help." She handed me the armor of Dark Seducers, and before I could stop myself, threw my arms around her.

"Thank you, Dylora." Hesitantly, she returned the friendly embrace. "What happens now?" I asked, separating.

"Our warriors will scour the halls of Pinnacle Rock," she responded, her wolflike eyes boring into mine. "We will remove any last elements of opposition. Then, we will immediately return to our duties."

"What about Syl?"

"No sign of her yet. We'll do our best to track her down, and deliver her to Lord Sheogorath for a fitting punishment. The traitor must be brought to justice!" I held up my hand.

"If you find Syl, I give you permission to attack her in every way. Torture her. Slit her throat," I snarled briskly, and Dylora gave me a toothy smile.

"As you wish, Your Grace."

"Then I shall take my leave."

"Indeed," Dylora agreed. "Lord Sheogorath will be anxious to hear of your victory, I am sure." I stepped behind a pillar and strapped on my new set of armor. After combing back my long black hair, I realized that I looked... actually kind of  _sexy_. In a dark, brooding, demented kind of way. I smiled at my own thoughts.  _Since when did I turn into my slut of a sister?_

_Maybe since you found love,_ a little voice in the back of my head murmured.

_Love?_

_Aye. Love. Think about the Lord Sheogorath. How you feel about him. The tingles up your spine whenever he looks at you. His beautiful golden eyes, his deep, deep voice telling you how amazing you are..._  I felt giddy with excitement.

_I know what to do. As soon as I get back, I'm going to tell him. Tell him I love him, that I always will. That he is the one to have stolen my heart._  I picked up the pace, summoning Arvak as soon as I was outside. I pushed him even harder, letting him gallop at full speed.This time, twenty minutes. Only twenty minutes. I leaped off the skeletal horse and ran into the city.

...

"Sheogorath, I--"

"Time. Time is an artificial construct..." he seemed far away, and all thoughts of telling him vanished. "An arbitrary system based on the idea that events occur in a linear direction at all times. Always forward, never back. Is the concept of time correct? Is time relevant? It matters not. One way or another, my love, I fear that our time has run out." Panic surged through me.

"Sheogorath, please don't go! I--"

"As I feared it would," he interrupted. "My plan has failed. The Greymarch is upon us, and I must go. I thought we had more time. I thought we had a chance. My plan has failed. And we were so close..."

"But we haven't failed!" He threw back his head in deep laughter.

"Optimism! How adorable! I love it! Even at the end, you make me laugh... I'm lying. That wasn't funny at all... No matter. Soon, you and everyone else will be dead, and I will be left a mad god, ruler of a dead realm... again. Regina..."

"What happens now?" I croaked fearfully, burying my chin into his shoulder.

"What happens is what always has happened-- what always will happen. I crumble, I fade, the Realm dies. And you with it. I have to send you away, Regina... while I can. When we next meet, I will not know you, and I will slay you like the others." My heart pounded in my chest at the thought of him, of all people... being the bane of my existence.

"What can I do?" I whispered helplessly.

"I had intended to give you My staff, the symbol of My office. But life has gone from it, as it goes from Me. It is now dead wood. A useless twig. With the staff, there was hope. But now, hope is dead... I am dead... the Realm..." Without warning, he clutched the back of my head and kissed me. This wasn't a sweet, light kiss like the others. It was full of passion, unfinished promises, and what would never be. My lips molded to his in a way that almost scared me. But all those thoughts fled as he released me.

"You can't leave," I cried brokenly, tears streaming in rivulets down my cheeks. He wiped them away, and I saw his own eyes shining.

"The Realm is dead! Sheogorath is dead!"

"No, Sheogorath! No! I lo--" I never got to tell him I loved him. In a brilliant display of colors, Sheogorath grew rapidly.

"All shall crumble before Jyggalag!" He vanished, and I collapsed to the ground in a fit of sobs.

 


	19. Symbols of Office

Oh my gods, oh gods oh gods oh gods... I felt a reassuring hand on my shoulder and threw him off with a snarl.

"Get... away from me," I barked, ignoring the hurt in Haskill's eyes. 

"Regina, I... we can still save the Realm, and Our Lord."

"By doing  _what_?" I said bleakly. "Sheogorath is gone, oh by the Princes, he's gone..." my chest heaved with sobs.

"...He is gone, but hope is not lost. We have a rare opportunity here, but I hesitate to do what must be done. If the Throne of Madness remains empty when Jyggalag storms the palace, he will prevail. But there is a chance that the throne may not be empty."

"What..."

"You will sit on the throne. It has always been Sheogorath's intent for you to be the new Madgod." I was stunned into silence. Me? A Daedric Prince?! How... I began to laugh terribly, hysterically.

"I'm not a Daedric Prince! I'm just a mortal woman who couldn't even make the one she loved stop this!" Haskill winced.

"True but perhaps you can hold the throne-- provided that you possess the proper symbol of office. Namely, the Staff of Sheogorath."

"What must I do?"

"Unfortunately, when Sheogorath faded, the power of the Staff faded with him. It must now be remade. The Staff is the symbol of power in this Realm. He-- or she-- who rightfully holds the Staff may hold the throne of the Shivering Isles. However, the secrets of its construction are lost." Immediately, I fell back into despair.

"Lost?! You said there was hope!"

"That which is lost can be found again. There is one being in the Shivering Isles who may be able to assist you in the construction of a new Staff. The ruins of Knifepoint Hollow once served as a great library. There, you will find a door. Behind that door, you will find the answer you seek. Although... I hesitate to guide you towards this path. The secrets of the past will surely aid Jyggalag, but I fear that we have no other choice. Be mindful of what you find there. The library is a thing of Order, and it will still serve that end.

"Take this crystal. It contains the power to open the scaled door. Inside, you will find the final remnants of the library."

...

The library was easy to find. I'd expected to pore over hundreds of thousands of books... but no. I was intrigued to see a man instead of books. The old man looked up, his white hair streaming around his face.

"Step forward, herald of madness. Speak with me if you would. I have been waiting for you, Your Grace. This day, as all days before and after, is well-known to me. There are no surprises to Dyus of Mytheria. Sheogorath has fallen and you seek the means to foil the machinations of the Prince of Order. You seek the Throne of Madness. However, no mortal may sit upon the throne without the staff. So here you are in my prison, seeking to supplant the one who placed me here. If you wish to take the place of Sheogorath, then ask me what you will."

"You're the remaining secrets?"

"You were expecting a book. An ancient tome filled with the secrets that you seek. But instead, you have found me. The last remnant. Individuality is an illusion. The details of my existence are no more important than the history of a stone. However, if you insist: I once served as the keeper of the great library of Jyggalag."

"What was the library like?" I couldn't bring myself to say "Sheogorath".

"The great library was the height of logic and deduction. Contained within its walls were the logical prediction of every action ever taken by any creature, mortal or Daedric. Every birth. Every death. The rise of Tiber Septim. The Numidium. Everything. All predicted with the formulae found within Jyggalag's library. When Sheogorath discovered the library he had it burned, insisting that it was an abomination and that personal choice defied logical prediction. I am all that remains of the knowledge contained within the great library of Jyggalag."

"How are you still alive?"

"Following each cycle of the Greymarch, Sheogorath has cast out or killed every aspect of Order found in the Shivering Isles. I alone have survived. Sheogorath cannot bring himself to destroy the knowledge that I possess. Instead, he has confined me to this place and forbidden me to die. I have not seen another creature until fate, predictably, sent you to me."

"What is this place, anyways?"

"Knifepoint Hollow is my prison. As the Great Library, it once contained all the knowledge in creation. However, spare me your grief. My imprisonment is as meaningless as my immortality. Time and place are nothing. Constructs of a feeble mortal mind attempting to categorize and understand the world around it. If you were one of the fortunate few, you would one day understand and accept this. However, you are not and you will not."

"I... need a Staff. How can I create one?"

"I can create the physical shell of the Staff, but the divine essence must be gathered elsewhere. But, apotheosis is no simple matter and the creation of the staff is no simple task. I will require two sacred items in order to complete it."

"What are they?"

"The Shivering Isles hold many secrets but few remain unseen by mortal eyes. The Staff is a tool of great vision and thus, requires the eye of one who has witnessed one of these unseen secrets firsthand. Ciirta resides in the Howling Halls of Mania. Find her and bring me the eye that has seen that which no other has."

"What's the second?"

"The trees and branches of this Realm feed from a deep font of madness and mystery. One of the oldest trees, named the Tree of Shades, lies in the halls of Milchar. Milchar is a place of ruin, root, and mania. Go there and bring me a branch of this tree, but be warned -- the tree will not surrender its secrets to one who has not earned them."

"Then you will make the Staff?"

"Yes. Only then can I create an appropriate vessel to hold the power that is inherent in the lord of this realm. The Staff may allow you to occupy the Throne of Madness, but understand that such a feat has never been attempted. All sources indicate that you will fail. It is a certainty. However, I also predict that this will not stop you from trying."

"Why do I need someone's  _eye_?"

"The Staff of Sheogorath holds the secrets of this Realm. As such, it requires a vessel that has witnessed dark secrets. Ciirta has seen things with her eyes that no mortal has. Because of this, her eye will serve well to contain that which the staff must hold."

"And the Tree of Shades?"

"The roots of the Tree of Shades run into the heart of the Shivering Isles. It is said that the tree feeds from waters of the Grove of Reflection. The grove can show men who they truly are. Only after facing the truth will the Tree of Shades give up its branches to you."

"Which should I set out to find first?"

"Either. It is up to you, but you will most certainly fail."

...

I went to find Ciirta's eye first. The ancient stone building was simple to get through once I wore the Apostle's Robes. I was not bothered by them, and easily made it to the inner sanctum-- and I was hit by the sight of dozens of paintings. All of the throne room-- with Sheogorath absent. I got the idea that Ciirta had seen the empty room at the last Greymarch.

"You wear our robes, but I hear the darkness that you bring in your very breath. You do not know harmony... you do not see my light. You come to me glowing with violence and death. Your light has no place here. We seek harmony for ourselves and the Shivering Isles."

"Oh, do you?" I challenged.

"I sense why you have come. I can hear it in your very breath. You came as a herald of the false god Sheogorath. I know His secret. I have seen His empty throne -- seen it with my own eyes while New Sheoth burned in the grey fires of Order. Sheogorath refuses to protect us. Madgod? Bah! The Greymarch brings darkness. We seek light for all."

"You really saw the Greymarch?"

"I did. When the Knights came, I fled to the city. As they marched and burned everything to ash, I found a way into the palace. I sought Sheogorath. This is His Realm, and I knew that He would protect us. And what did I find? The Throne of Madness -- empty! Sheogorath had fled! Left us all to die! I hid as the doors to the throne room burst open. I... I don't remember what happened afterwards. I woke up in the marshes and fled underground.

"I could not abide Sheogorath's betrayal. He brought disharmony. He allowed the Greymarch to take us. I gathered those who could see the light and I led a revolt against him. We were... slaughtered by his Dark Seducers. I alone was spared. And in sparing me, Sheogorath made His final mistake. In this place, I will gather a new army and dethrone our coward god once and for all!" I curled my fists, eager to end her life.  _He's hardly a coward, you stupid bitch,_ I longed to say.  _He can't control it!_

"Sheo... Sheogorath is gone."

"He is? Then the Greymarch has begun again? If that is so, then why are you here?"

"I need your eye."

"My eye? You seek to remove the light from me? Why?"

"I must rescue the Realm."

"And my eye is required to create an artifact, isn't it? Very well then. I have survived greater threats than you. Come then, and I will show you that in the end, my light shall shine the brightest!"

"Then you must die." I sent a column of fury towards her, and she screamed as her bones and flesh melted. Her assistant backed away as I plucked out her eye, wiping the slime on the robes.

...

Next was Milchar, where the Tree of Shades was. I successfully entered and slaughtered the inhabitants. The Tree of Shades was dead ahead, and I approached it, wondering what to do when I caught sight of a firebolt coming my way. I would have died-- I felt the sheer power-- and set up a ward spell just in time.

I whirled around to face my attacker, leaping back in shock as I realized that it was  _me_. A nightmarish version, completely ebony in color.

"You are a lost, lonely little girl," she-- I-- it-- moaned. "Terrified because of her life without love. From her sister, scorn. Her parents, unknowingly ignorant towards their youngest." I gritted my teeth and sent a spell her way. If she truly was me, then of course she'd set up a ward spell.  _Then I'll do what I can't-- use my blade._ I pulled out Duskfang, the silver snakes gleaming as they curled up the blade. I closed in on myself, slashing away. It drank in the mimic's life force, and she was hard-pressed to defend herself.  _A mage's worst nightmare._

At last, I drove it into her chest. "W-well... done..." She vanished, leaving a blade behind... Shadowrend. It was a two-handed blade, colored with darkness. The roots shifted, one breaking off. I grasped it and wrenched it from the ground.  _Now I can create the Staff._

...

I returned to Dyus, who seemed thoroughly surprised.

"You have the items. Contrary to all prediction. Once again, you defy the path set before you. However, what comes next is now unclear. If you wish to confront what is to come, I shall create the Staff for you.

"You possess the eye and the branch. Together, they shall form the physical shape of the Staff of Sheogorath. After I shape them into the Staff, you must take it to the seat of power in the Shivering Isles -- the Palace of Sheogorath. There, imbue the Staff with power from the Font of Madness. Soak the staff in the waters of the land, and it will open its full power to you. You have defied the expected and accomplished something that denies all logic. I must contemplate the error in my calculations." Dyus waved his hand over the wood and eye, merging them together. "Now... take your treasure and leave me."

 


	20. The Roots of Madness

I strode up the stairs, carrying the Staff in my hand. At Haskill's guidance, I stuck it in the Fond of Madness-- and nothing happened. I turned my head towards Haskill, who said something-or-other about crystals tainting the Font of Madness. He informed me of the root tunnels below the palace, the entrance being behind Sheogorath's throne.

I walked through the fleshy entrance. I noticed several pools the further I went in, and cleaned them all by killing the priests guarding them. The more I cleaned, the less crystals were on the walls. Hell, even the tiny Gnarls helped me open more pathways.

The last room held the very last person I expected to see-- Syl. She glared at me and drew a nasty-looking warhammer.

"Look, it's Sheogorath's little  _slut_." Rage filled my lithe body, and I bared my teeth in a furious snarl. I blasted her and the other priests with magic. Syl was just barely alive, and I kicked her in the face, causing her nose to start gushing blood. I snapped her arm and crushed her legs. She wailed in pain, and I almost felt pity for the Bosmer.

Almost. 

She'd killed so many Mazken, not to mention betrayed Sheogorath. Hurt him, and us. Maybe if she hadn't fucked up so badly, we wouldn't be in this position. After she begged to die, I obliged... by casting a slow, agonizing spell. It would burn her alive. After the bitch died, I took her unique weapon, called Nerveshatter. It had several enchantments on it, and though I wouldn't use it, it was certainly a neat trophy. I cleansed the final pool and left the root tunnel.

 

...

 

"Congratulations," Haskill said as I emerged from the tunnels. The Staff glowed brightly, and I lifted it when it dimmed. A surge of power lifted me up, and I felt... right. Though my king wasn't at my side, I was a queen, a goddess, in my own right.


	21. The End of Order

A crash outside alerted me, and I realized that the forces of Order had come. An Aureal burst through the doors, panting. "Your Grace! Please... Jyggalag has reached us! He's sent crystals, Knights, priests..." she trailed off, fear in her yellow feline-like eyes. "The Obelisk of Order has been activated."

...

I threw Hearts of Order into the Obelisk of Order, shutting it down. No sooner had I completed that had a second Obelisk appeared on the other side of the Courtyard. _Damn_!

I hurried over, but was knocked down by the one... by Sh-- no, by Jyggalag.

"Puny mortal," he hissed, sticking a sword at my neck. I swallowed and closed my eyes.  _Forgive me, my love._ I blew him back with a spell, stunning him long enough for me to deactivate the Obelisk and my Mazken and Aureals to kill the remaining Knights and Priests of order.

Jyggalag recovered and glared at me. Gone was the fine, chiseled face I loved so very much. They were replaced, I could see nothing through the cold helmet of Jyggalag.

"Please, you don't want to hurt me!" I pleaded. He ignored me, continuing to advance and swinging his sword. Tears edged out of my eyes as I held up my hand. I had one choice. "Jyggalag... Sheogorath, if you're listening... I love you." His hesitation was enough for me to send my most powerful spell towards him. My chest rumbled, and I tried to stop full-blown wails from escaping my lips as I killed the one I loved.

"R-Regina?" he croaked, coughing terribly. His form was flickering, and I rushed over, ripping off his helm.

Oh,  _there_  he was... Sheogorath. Jyggalag. I stroked his hair back and kissed him. I poured everything I was into the kiss. He returned my true passion, his hand on the small of my back. I let go, the tears now freely falling.

"I'm so sorry..."

"D-don't be," he gasped. "You only did w-what I told you to."

"You can't go, you can't!" I tried a Restoration spell.

"It w-won't heal," he groaned, his hand clasped in mine. "Not on Daedra."

"Please..." I covered his face with kisses, praying that I hadn't killed him.

"Allow me, Regina... you're the love of my life... my very long, tortured,  _lonely_  life. Allow me to return you... to your world." I realized what was happening.

"No, no no!" I shrieked, fear filling me. "My love! You can't do this! Please, save your strength... you'll live... I love you, I love you, I love you... hold on..." the Daedric Prince ignored my pleads, pressing a hand to my head.

"Goodbye... love of mine." I screamed as he whispered to me, sending me to Cyrodil, back on the sandy island with no trace of him or the mysterious door.


	22. Broken

I rocked back and forth, spasms wracking my body as it hit me. Sheogorath... I was never going to see him again. I clutched the sides of my head, my fingernails drawing blood. But as the crimson liquid spilled into my eyes, I realized I didn't care. Nothing mattered. Nothing at all. Everything was dead without  _him_. 

"Crucible... guards, save him... Saints, Seducers, Haskill..." I scrambled to my feet, feeling  _nothing_  where the door had been.  _Was it a dream?! Was he a dream?!_ "The door, the door, the  _door..._ where is the fucking door?! Jyggalag, oh, how could you... oh gods, my love... Sheogorath..." I heard a slight noise to my left, and my gaze met another woman's. She was pretty, but my attention soon shifted from the stranger to my insane thoughts. "The Scroll, time and rhyme... Brain pies and purple butterflies, my Lord lies and flies... oh, lie he did... Oh, no... Or does he?! Yes, no, my Madgod... my Sheogorath..." 

My insanity swirled deeper. "I cannot see you, My Lord! Where are you, love?!" I pounded the ground, noises that sounded like choked sobs coming from my throat. Then I screamed. A pure screech of unrelenting agony, that could only be made by someone in true pain.

Up above, the thunder rumbled, and the downpour soaked me to the bone. But I didn't care. I couldn't care, when  _he_  was gone. When he'd left me. Oh, my love... I cannot live without you...

 

...

 


	23. Burning Cities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I completely screwed over the storyline for the Oblivion Gates.
> 
>  
> 
> ........

 

 

After two days of not moving, my throat was burning with thirst, and my belly gnawed at me, starved for sustenance. But it didn't matter. I could die. That's what I wanted. To  _die_. Alone and scared. The feeling swept over me, of abandonment and fear. 

The feelings from my dream.

I forced myself to sit up, my muscles protesting after not being used for so long. My vision swam before my eyes, and I immediately felt dizzy. I tried using a spell, to no avail. I had no strength,  I could do nothing.

I managed to crawl to the bank, drinking in the water in deep gulps. The hunger faded as well, and my strength returned.

I used the spell to summon Haskill. Nothing.  _Then... was it a dream?_ I slowly stood up and summoned Arvak. The violet equine whinnied and pawed at the ground. I mounted him and ignored the sickness that rose in my belly.

We swam to the opposite shore, and I looked over the city of Bravil. What was left of it, anyways. I couldn't have cared less, unfortunately for the citizens.  _If I'm unhappy, then they all deserve to be as well._

The sky was streaked with red, and an oval-shaped flaming structure was nearby. I galloped towards it, hoping beyond all hopes that it was a Gate to Oblivion.  _If I meet... who was it that nearly destroyed Tamriel in the Third Era? Boethiah... no, it was Mehrunes Dagon. If I meet him, maybe he'll take me to Sheogorath._

All reason had left me. I rushed at the gate, and found myself held back.

"What do you think you're doing?" I recognized that voice vaguely.

"J-Jauffre?"

"By the Nine, Regina! You? You look like you've been to a Plane of Oblivion!" I laughed bitterly.  _That's exactly what happened. That's why I... why I can't stand to stand. Why I can't stand to breathe, or eat, or drink. Why I want to die._ "We've got to get you somewhere... er..."

"Spit it out!" I snarled. "What, somewhere safe? Because the real enemy is in here!" I jabbed at my head. "Oh, I'm the enemy! I'm the mirror! I'm the damn mirror!" I babbled, tears streaming down my face.

"You've got to calm down. Let's get out. But Regina, no matter where you go, there  _is_  nowhere safe." The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Why?"

"Because... we cannot find Martin. The Dragonfires cannot be lit without the blood of Akatosh. Tamriel is doomed."  _Oh, fuck._

"But that's not what happened," I insisted. I'd grown much within the past two years. I'd learned more about myself than I had in the other seventeen years. Hell, I'd even fallen in  _love_ \-- and had it torn away. That was misery. Oh, it was true shattering torment.

"Regina, let's go." He herded me away from my last chance to find out if everything was a dream.  _Wait. Dervenin. Dervenin, asking if they can find his master...! SHEOGORATH! OH, MY LOVE!_ I was renewed, with newfound vigor. 

"Hurry, hurry! We've got to send me back! Defeat Mehrunes Dagon!"

"You're not making any sense, ma'am. Calm down." How could he expect me to calm down?! Especially NOW? But wasn't that future gone? No, it wasn't, it couldn't be, I... I had to save the Shivering Isles. I had to find a way to move across Planes of Oblivion, no matter what. I was the Madgod Regina.  _Do all people connected to mom become Daedric Princes?_ I wondered absently, with a slight bit of humor. Of course I could... return to my Isles. Yet however much I focused, I couldn't send myself back.

_Then it had to be a dream, a dream that lasted several years._

...

 

The Imperial City was ablaze, and I began the search for the last heir to Akatosh's blood. I finally found him-- or should I say his body.  _That's fucking wonderful. Now I have no future to return to, nothing to live for. Any second now, Mehrunes Dagon is going to open Gates inside of the City._

But something didn't feel right. What if... oh, my Madgod. I looked at the Amulet of Kings around Martin's neck. Then I did something I hadn't in the sewers, when I'd previously held the giant red gem. I clasped it around my neck.

_Only a true heir of the blood can wear the Amulet of Kings..._

It clicked. I was the daughter of the Dragonborn, of Russet. I had the blood of Akatosh within me. By all rights, I could light the Dragonfires and shut the Gates forev--

That's when the Gates opened, and hundreds of Daedra poured out.  _Shit. Shit shit shitshitshitshitshit! How did Martin close the Gates?!_

He joined with Akatosh. But it also ended in his death.  _And a life without love is meaningless._  I tore the Amulet from my neck and smashed it on the ground, shattering it completely.  _Take me, Akatosh... take a Daedric Prince and make me part of you._ Indeed, I felt the blood of dragons coursing through my veins. 

A great fiery dragon descended from the sky, and I merged myself with its body. Together, we flew at the four-armed red demon destroying the city from the inside. We battled for what seemed like hours, and I'd never felt such pain as when I was attacked by the Daedric Prince of Destruction. Finally, Akatosh and I got the upper hand. Dagon became distracted as a horde of guards stormed at him.

We lunged at the Daedric Prince. We clasped our flaming jaws around his neck, ending him and preventing any more Gates. The Dragonfires were not needed any longer, and Mehrunes Dagon disintegrated before blowing away. 

My strength sapped away, and I landed atop the Temple of Akatosh. My body was freezing, turning... to stone. I was dying, and for that I was grateful. 

I'd done what I shouldn't have done. Time was altered forever, and I was fading. I let out my last dying breath as I finally petrified.


	24. Cracked

_Regina..._

I let myself be carried away by the soothing voice of my beloved. 

_Regina._

Mmm. His voice was like a cup of warm chocolate on a frigid night.

_Regina?_

Or like the cool breeze on a blazing hot summer's day.

_Regina!!_

Or full of alarm, real and full. I snapped open my eyes to see... nothing. If this was Sovngarde, it sucked ass. I couldn't see my dearest love...

"By the Isles, I... I... where are you?"

"Shhh..." he cooed, and I felt his presence somewhere around me. "I cannot appear to you, my love."

"I... I love you..."

"And I love you, Regina. More than you'll ever know."

"Who are you now?" I asked mischievously, glancing around. "Sheogorath or Jyggalag?"

"You have the powers of the Madgod," he replied. "And I am the Prince of Order. But you are  _mine_."

"Even with all of my broken parts?"

" _Especially_  with all of your broken parts, Regina." A sadness took over his tone, before lifting slightly. "You're not dead, Regina." Shock coursed through me.

"Then this is one hell of a dream," I muttered, pressing my hand to my chest.

"Not a dream, Regina. You gave yourself to save Tamriel; perhaps the... Divines saw fit to save you."

"What's it like out there?"

"They all believe that Martin saved them by joining with Akatosh. After all, who else has the Dragonblood?" He grinned, pressing my head to his chest. I heard his steady heartbeat and curled my fingers against his chest.  _So I didn't fuck up history,_  I realized.  _This is how it was meant to be. The thief that stole the Elder Scroll from the palace-- that was Valka. That was my Scroll. When it was returned-- that's when mom and dad got it when she was on a journey from Nocturnal. So this was all meant to be._

"I love you, Sheogorath."

"I'm Jyggalag, love."

"You'll always be my Sheogorath," I sighed, reaching out into the air. Wherever he was... surely he knew what I was doing.

"Then Sheogorath I shall be," he said gently. "Regina, do you trust me?" Suddenly, there was an urgency in his tone that hadn't been there before.

"Of course I do."

"Then you must listen. Go back to your own time, my love." I began to protest, but he cut me short. "Find the beggar Dervenin, I'm sure you remember him." 

"I do," I said slowly. "But how is this..." it came to me. "I'll return to the future, and I'll find you?" 

"That's my girl," he chuckled. "Smart as always, beloved. I'll send you back." I held onto his voice for the last time in that period, in that absolute nothingness. Then I vanished. His voice echoed through the continuum of time, and I closed my eyes as the wind of nothing tickled my cheeks.

When I reappeared in my own time, the first thing I noticed was the lack of change. After two years, certainly my parents would have rid themselves of my bed, my clothes. But everything was as it was-- except remarkably dusty. They must not have come into my room the entire time. I heard them speaking downstairs, and my heart swelled at hearing their voices again.

I prepared to meet my family-- again. Then a wave of nervousness hit me. What would I say?  _Hey, mom, dad, I fell in love with a Daedric Prince and inexplicably became one in the process. Yes, that is a human eyeball on the staff. Oh, and I also have a son. No, dad, I'm still a virgin. Oh right, I created him from a fleshy creature of awkward body parts. Sorry, Karliah. I know you loved the spotlight even more once I was gone._  I paced the room-- which was a mistake.

I knocked over my silver pitcher on the table. It clattered to the floor, and immediately, the conversation downstairs ceased. I heard their footsteps up the stairs and steeled myself for the sure scolding I would get. The door cracked open, revealing none other than the astonished faces of...


	25. Russet

**RUSSETPOV**

My hands twirled the spiced wine around in its bottle. I wasn't drunk, I was far from it-- apparently having Dragonblood stops the intoxicating effects. My beloved husband, on the other hand, was never so lucky. He spent many days at the tavern, drinking away his sorrow. I never reprimanded my dear Brynjolf. How could I? We both felt the sorrow at losing Regina. Today, he was sober.

"Love?" I placed a hand on his arm. "We've done all we can. I'm sure Regina's safe."

"Can you be?" He looked up from his hands, blurry-eyed. "Damn it all, why do I have such luck with the people I love?"

"Regina was-- is-- a free spirit," I told him firmly. "She's found a way to live, I know it." I stopped talking as a clang upstairs alerted me.

"A thief?" Bryn wondered, his hand going to a sword on the wall. "What's... the Guild would never break in." His allegiance to the Thieves' Guild had never faltered.

"But a freelance thief might," I told him. I followed my husband up the stairs, admiring his stance. Two years of drink hadn't decreased his fighting skills, he came home every night and destroyed the practice dummies with the strength of self-anger.

"It came from Regina's room," he whispered, stopping outside our little girl's room. He threw open the door-- and dropped the sword.

"Regina?" he croaked, blinking. My heart thudded rapidly, and I rushed past my husband to my precious daughter.

"Oh, by the Divines..." I cried, embracing my precious daughter. I held her tightly, as though she was a dream that would vanish any second. Brynjolf shook himself out of his stupor and pounded over, joining me in welcoming our daughter home.

"Regina's back?" I looked over to see Karliah. Her eyes watered, and quicker than thought, she hugged her little sister. I could see the shock in my daughter's eyes as her older sister expressed all the love and affection that had been lost. "By the gods, Regina, where have you been?!" Regina chuckled nervously.

"Well... it's kind of a long story."

"I'll be damned if I don't hear." Brynjolf spoke up, finally finding his voice. "What happened?"

"Can I sit down? It's been a long journey... y'know, saving two worlds and killing two Daedric Princes..." She appeared very satisfied with our responses.

"WHAT?!"


	26. Love Restored

**REGINAPOV**

 

"You did not," Karliah gasped, refusing to release her little sister's hand. "You... you  _kissed_  a Daedric Prince?!"

"Fell in love with him, not to mention gained his kingdom and his powers." My entire family was speechless. Then I continued to the sorrowful part of my tale. "But... despite everything, it was too late. My Sheogorath had become Jyggalag. I was forced to...  _kill_  him to protect the land." My voice choked up, and I found myself unable to speak."

"Regina, did you sleep wi--" My glare told my father everything, and he sighed in relief.

"But then... I was sent to Tamriel. Mom, you've heard of the Third Era's conclusion, right? The end of Mehrunes Dagon by the hands of Martin, the last of the Dragonblood?"

"Of course I have."

"That was  _me_. Martin was dead, mom. I... well, all I can say is, thank the Madgod that I'm descended from  _you_." I watched as she put the pieces together.

"You used our Dragonblood?"

"Yes. I... I always said I wasn't important," I chuckled. "Now look at me-- Savior of Tamriel, Dragonblood, the Avatar of Akatosh, a Daedric Prince, and love to a Daedric Prince." I bolted up, suddenly urged to find Dervenin for my Sheogorath. "I'll be back!"

"Oh, no, young lady! You're not lea--" I never stayed to hear my dad finish. All I knew was that my love was out there, and I needed to find him.


	27. Pelagius' Wing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: If you're uncomfortable with open kisses, then beware this chapter. No lemons, guys. Just adorable kisses :P Please be kind, I'm not too fond (or good) at writing these kinds of things, I hope I got it right!
> 
>  
> 
> ...............

 

 

I wandered Solitude's streets, keeping my eyes peeled for the mad beggar. I stopped a guard, who first glanced at my unfamiliar attire before my face.

"Miss Regina?" he said incredulously. "You... you vanished. Two years ago."

"And now I'm back," I drawled. "Look, you know Dervenin?" The guard stared at me blankly, and I sighed. "That crazy old beggar?"

"Oh, that one."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Aye, in the Solitude Jails." Now it was  _my_  turn to stare at him.

"Why?!"

"He went crazy, hitting people-- your mother, in fact-- with some hip bone. We confiscated it."

"Thanks," I mumbled irritably, heading off to the Blue Palace.

 

...

 

Everyone seemed shocked by my appearance. Some were a tad hostile, but I didn't care. After facing two Daedric Princes, killing both, and becoming one  _myself_... Well, they could go suck a Grummite. I evaded High Queen Elisif the Fair and stomped into the dungeon.

Sure enough, the madman was sitting down in a cell. At my footsteps, he looked up. I saw recognition in his eyes. "Your Grace!"

"Dervenin!"  _Proof._ "It's so good to see you. Do you remember Sheogorath?"

"Of course!" he snorted. "He is my master. He is Our Lord."

"Do you know where he is?"  _Oh, please please please..._

"Yes! Yes, can you bring him back? When did you see him last?"

"Last I saw him, he was visiting in the Blue Palace. But no one as mundane as the Jarl. No, no... such people are below him. No, he went into the of the palace, to speak with an old friend. Said it had been ages since they had last had tea."

"Then do you know where he is?" Dervenin may have been scatterbrained, but he managed to convey his location.

"He stays in the Pelagius Wing of the Blue Palace. The doors are locked, and only Falk Firebeardcan grant entry. But I hear the maids, and Una and Erdi, know how to enter it for cleaning. Surely they can help for such an important matter?"

"Got it. Have you tried to get in?"

"No," Dervenin admitted, tilting his head down. "But you need the hipbone. The Hipbone of Pelagius. It's in the evidence chest. At least, it should be." I stood up straight, fortifying my determination. "Good luck, Your Grace."

"Thank you so much, Dervenin." I left the madman as he muttered to himself.

Thankfully, my dad had taught me how to pick locks, allowing me to successfully retrieve Pelagius' hipbone from the evidence chest.  _Now to head to Falk Firebeard._

...

 

"What do you mean, "Absolutely not?!" I demanded, placing my hands on my hip. The steward of Solitude crossed his arms, stoic in his reply.

"That wing is strictly forbidden."

"Don't make me do this," I warned. 

"Do wha--" the steward froze as I blasted him with the Staff. He was completely motionless as I unhooked the key from his belt. 

 

...

 

I unlocked the Pelagius Wing, slipping inside before anyone could see me. I relocked the door, in case anyone else tried to come after me. Cobwebs hung everywhere, and the wing was freezing. I ignored the temperature and summoned a mage's light to aid me.

"Sheogorath?" I called out. "Jyggalag?" A strong breeze whisked through the chamber, and I felt my body slowly disappear. Just in time, too. The handle of Pelagius' Wing wiggled, and I heard the twisting of a key in the lock.

 

...

 

I reappeared in a strange forest. I glanced around frantically, calling out my Prince's name.

"Sheogorath? Where are you?" I ran around in the woods, searching for some form of life. Nothing except the plants. "Sheo--" I yelped suddenly as strong arms enveloped me. I breathed in his scent, light magic. 

"I missed you," he murmured. "I spent these two hundred years waiting for you, my love." He turned me around, and I surprised him by nearly smashing my lips against his. We moved in unison, and his hand entangled itself in my hair.

His breath was hot on my lips, and I threw myself into his sweet caresses. 

"I love you," I whispered against his mouth, just before he captured my own in another deep kiss.

"And I you." We separated, though his arms never left my waist. 

"Well, can you come back with me?" I asked, leaning my chin into his shoulder.

"I'll follow you anywhere, love." 

 

...

 

Sheogorath transported us to just outside my house. It was dark outside, and the stars above twinkled brightly. The faraway galaxy shimmered with its gorgeous magenta light, and I felt entirely relieved that, luckily, everything had worked out. I had love, just as I wanted. Hell, I was even a  _goddess_.

"Ready? Oh, and watch out for my dad... you should've seen him when Karliah brought home her first suitor."

"If he tries to break us apart--"

"Then we'll return to the Isles.  _Together_." I squeezed his hand, and a pang hit my heart. If that happened, I'd be leaving my family. They'd be distraught. I knew that now, that even though they hadn't shown it much... they did love me.

I pushed open the door, and a terrible foreboding hit me.  _This was a mistake..._


	28. Daedric Princes

I walked into my home, though it felt so alien to be walking on the stone floor. My mother and father were sitting down at the kitchen table, and they looked up at me. Then at Sheogorath. My dad immediately turned hostile, while my mother was shocked. Karliah walked in, and her eyes widened. 

"Is that really...  _the_  Daedric Lord?"

"As real as you," Sheogorath responded lightly. 

"And how am I to know whether you've cast a spell on my daughter?" my dad growled, clutching a dagger tightly.

"Don't worry, dad," I reassured him. "I've got all sorts of magical protections-- spells hardly work."

"However, it is  _your_ daughter who is enchanting," my Prince murmured. My father frowned angrily, while my mother let out a laugh.

"After all of our warnings to stay away from the Princes... you got yourself involved...  _romantically_... with the Prince of Insanity?!"

"No," I replied. "The Prince of Order. If you want technicalities, I'm Sheogorath, and he's Jyggalag." I grinned toothily. Everyone stared at me, dumbfounded. My parents gave me such sorrowful looks that my confidence immediately fled.

"Regina..."

"We were afraid of this." My mother's voice shook with guilt, and I widened my eyes, pressing closer to Sheogorath. 

"That what?" My lip trembled.

"That your tale would prove to be true. Karliah..." I looked up to see-- not my sister, but someone I could only recognize as Nocturnal. I stepped back, and a low growl rumbled Sheogorath's chest as he stood in front of me protectively.

"Sheogorath, Jyggalag, whomever you choose to be," the Daedric Prince remarked coldly, fixing us with an icy glare. "I'm afraid that I cannot allow this." 

"Nocturnal," he hissed through his teeth. "What in the name of the Princes do you think you are doing?"

"You know the rules, Jyggalag," she hissed, extending a blue hand smoothly. I felt Sheogorath stiffen beside me.  _He'll always be my Sheogorath._  "As well as the punishment." 

"This is none of your business, Nocturnal." The Daedric Prince's dress flowed in an invisible breeze.

"It is by fault of yours that Russet and Brynjolf's daughter remained missing for two years," she responded breezily. "Not to mention the explicitly stated rules of the Ancient Laws... or have you forgotten?" The raven on her forearm screeched and opened its midnight-black wings. "Step away from her-- or die."

"Never," he hissed. "I'd rather be dead than be without Regina." I caught my mother's gaze. 

 _I'm sorry,_ she mouthed. Nocturnal's eye flicked to my mother, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Sheogorath pushed me out of the way and leaped away from a violet blast Nocturnal sent our way. 

But that was exactly where she wanted us. 

"You shouldn't have gotten involved with Daedric Princes, dear..." Nocturnal spat, trapping me in a black cloud of fog. I couldn't escape. Sheogorath shouted and tried throwing himself at the bubble, to no avail. It shocked him horribly, and I could see the burns on his arm. Still he continued.

"Don't do this," I shrieked through the bubble, pounding on the inside. "Karliah!! Think of this as Gallus!" Karliah's-- er, Nocturnal's-- gaze flicked to me, and fury overtook her.

"You cannot speak of me in that way,  _mortal_ ," she hissed. "You know  _nothing_!" She raised a hand, holding a bright blast of violet blazes. I stared at Sheogorath, and his golden eyes met mine in a terrible expression of sorrow. 

"I love you," he breathed. Nocturnal threw the blaze. In a second, it was all over.


	29. Ashes

Sheogorath was gone. So was my cage. And Nocturnal. I glanced up, bleary-eyed at my mother. "How could you do this?" I whispered brokenly. "You might as well have taken a dagger to my own heart."

"Regina," my mother pleaded, standing up. "Nocturnal wasn't supposed to kill him, she--"

"You don't understand," my father grunted, interrupting her. "Daedric Princes are tricky-- they will take everything that you are."

"Sheogorath didn't take anything!" I screamed. "I  _gave_ him my heart!" 

"You have no idea how hard the past two years have been on us," he murmured. "Without you--"

"You've completely... intentionally... destroyed me," I croaked.

"Regina, my baby--"

"Some heroes  _you_  are!" I shrieked, scrambling to my feet and glaring at my parents with undisguised hatred. "Dragonborn of the Ages! The Last Hope! Savior of the World!" I trilled in a high-pitched voice.

I finally understood how Sheogorath had felt after Galea's murder. Lost. Broken.

Insane. 

I focused on my destination. "I don't belong here!" I hissed mercilessly, curling my fingers into fists. "I belong in  _my_  Realm, the Shivering Isles! Good luck getting there... I don't allow intruders. And my  _son_  will cut you to pieces should you try to invade!" I ignored the protests. "You're no longer my family! So you see,  _Russet..._  perhaps one day  _Brynjolf_  will be taken from you, stolen away, dead! And perhaps... he will be dead by  _my_  hand." With that, I sent myself to my true home-- the Shivering Isles.


	30. Russet

**RUSSETPOV**

I stayed in my seat, astonished at the words coming from my young daughter's mouth. Pure fury and heartbreak was evident on her face, and her long ebony hair was wet from her tears. She vanished, and I let out a squeak of dismay. I looked at Bryn, who appeared stuck in a state of shock. A thousand questions ran through my head.  _Is Regina gone for eternity? Would she really kill her own father? Did we make a mistake? I never meant for Nocturnal to kill him, did Karliah have something against Sheogorath? Why did she get so upset when Regina brought up Gallus?_

"Mother?" my eldest whispered, staring at me in astonishment. "Why did you...?"

"It wasn't my intention for him to die," I replied quietly. "I would never have... I couldn't be sure that he wasn't enchanting her," I said lamely. Now that the time for mistakes had passed, I realized how terrible my excuse sounded. Regina was perceptive, intelligent. She'd never be fooled. She'd always found it hard to love, and was sure that she'd never find someone to love her.

And I took it away. 

"That was awful, ma. Any fool could see they were truly in love." I glanced at my husband, who had his head in his hands.  _By the gods... I might lose him. I've lost a daughter. What if he's attacked? We couldn't possibly raise a hand against our daughter._  I clutched Brynjolf's arm fearfully and began to sob. 

"What have we done?"


	31. Shivering Isles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Extreme gore.
> 
> ......

 

I appeared in Sheogorath's Realm-- or  _my_  Realm. My chest shook with a cry I hadn't allowed before. I wanted to wring my parent's throats. Their protests echoed. But they had orchestrated Sheogorath's death. They'd found the perfect way to break me, to kill me.

Despite the loss and tears, I had a Realm to run. Sheogorath had been away from the isles for two hundred years. Certainly there were new citizens now, and Haskill... my dear, dear friend. Was he dead? Or was he granted immortality? I teleported myself to the palace, rejoicing when I saw the chamberlain standing near the throne.

"Haskill!" His head snapped up, and his face was filled with pure shock from seeing me.

"Regina?!" He rushed at me and wrapped me in a hug, which I quickly pushed away.

"No, Haskill. He was my love. I will not love you. I can't."

"But He is alive. Why "was"...?"

"Because my parents killed him," I replied simply, collapsing on my throne with my head in my hands.

I remained there. I remained and cried.

 

...

 

Over the next few days, Haskill did all he could to try and bring my spirits back.

"I have a dancer," he offered. I shrugged it away. More likely than not, I'd send the dancer far above the sky and allow her to plummet to the ground and die. 

As I was walking through the forest one day, I spotted Xedilian.  _I could do with a bit of torture,_  I thought wryly.  _After all... it draws in adventurers like a moth to a flame._

...

 

Kiliban was overjoyed to see me-- and it seemed he knew I was the new Madgod.

"My Queen," he murmured reverently, bowing. I held my head up high, my decorated split-colored finery gathering around my feet. "To whom do I owe thanks for the pleasure of your company?"

"My parents," I said emotionlessly. That's how I was dealing with my love's death. Cutting off my feelings until I was an empty husk.

"Then I must thank--"

"They killed my love." I allowed a twinge of anger into my voice. "I will not thank them. But I am in the mood for torture. I need citizens to bow to me. Torture to my enemies. Death to satisfy me."

Kiliban didn't comment, only moved aside to allow me to take the controls. With a wave of my hand, I added new chambers.  _The perks of being a goddess._  I waited-- but not for long. Soon enough, a party of adventurers came through. There was a Bosmer, an Orc, Dunmer, and two Nords.

What the  _fuck?_

Oh, I was going to enjoy this. The Bosmer resembled Syl so closely it was almost uncanny, as if she'd returned from the dead. The Orc was a mirror image of the Orc I'd despised my first time in Xedilian. The Dunmer... Karliah, that fucking Daedric Princess... and the Nords looked just like my parents.

The female Nord had braided red hair, the male with darker red hair. My blood boiled. Were the gods... or the Princes... sending me the faces of everyone I despised?

The first chamber was the chamber of the gnarls. I sent out a swarm of tiny gnarls, and with a snap of my fingers, made them grow until they towered over the adventurers. I leaned forward eagerly and watched in interest as they slaughtered the Syl doppelganger. I made them all disappear.

The next room was for greed. Filled with gold-- in a cage. The Orc stepped forward, his eyes gleaming. "Gold, gold, gold! Ohh, precious gold!" He slammed himself at the bars, and I added a third button to the chamber.  _Thanks for the idea, pigface._ The next time he flung at the cage, I activated the switch. The bars separated and speared him through the face, chest, gut, and legs. He gurgled as pain overtook his body and he writhed in agony before stilling.  _Perfect_. 

I could sense the trepidation in the remaining adventurers. But their avarice was more powerful; they pressed on.

The formerly final chamber had dead bodies hanging from the ceiling. I used my powers and froze the Nords. The Dunmer tried getting them to move, to no avail. She visibly shuddered and stared at the rotting corpses. I decided... to kill her.

I flicked my wrist, strapping her to the walls. She struggled, but was unable to escape. The Dark Elf screamed for help, her violet eyes full of panic. 

"Rylin! Brugor!"  _Huh. Names are similar._ But her companions didn't move any more than the stones she was trapped against. I snapped my fingers, allowing the zombies to come to life. The dead rose and groaned furiously, going for the Dunmer's throat. 

They tore it out, leaving her blood to stain the floor and her body to become another corpse to destroy adventurers. I reanimated the Nords, enjoying the horror on their faces as they beheld their friend's dead form, bloody and torn on the floor.

Still, they continued. 

I had two more chambers left. The first one was a personal favorite of mine. They had a choice of six buttons on a podium and a single gate.

"One of these must open the gate," Rylin called out. She pressed the first one-- and was speared through the leg by a trap. The Russet lookalike screamed in pain, and I smiled. Someday, maybe, I would make my real mother shriek like that. Scream as I tore her apart, limb from limb for orchestrating my love's death... and skip rope with her intestines.

The man pressed another, and noxious gas spilled out into the room. They gasped for air and began randomly slamming their fists into the cruel faces. They released a horde of flesh atronachs, followed by Skinned Hounds. After that, the holes in the wall began filling the room with deep crimson blood. It rose at a shocking speed, filling their mouths with blood. The final button released the door-- I'd made it so. No matter what button was pressed, it would release horrors, until the final one.

I doubted they would survive.

By some manner of dumb luck, when the female was flailing around, her foot hit the final button-- draining the blood and opening the gate. They coughed, blood spilling from their mouths and dripping from their long hair.

They stomped out the door, fear shaking them to the core.

Of course, the final course was my absolute favorite. I'd created it with myself... and parents... in mind. I clicked the button, and spirits came from the walls. Rylin and Brugor drew their weapons before dropping them in shock.

"Lilah?" Rylin asked in shock. "Y-you're... alive!"

"Hardly," the spirit whispered. "I was torn to pieces. My chest was ribbons, my insides were slop. But you could have saved me,  _sister._ " The spirit of Rylin's sister lashed out at her, and the Nord woman whimpered, unwilling to hurt the apparition of her Lilah.

Brugor, on the other hand, was dealing with a little boy. "Oh, my sweet Kastiel," he cried, embracing his son. "You were torn apart by dragons... perhaps these accursed halls hold more than horrors."

"Hello, daddy!" the boy's tone was too bright, and he drew a ghastly dagger-- plunging it into his father's throat. I didn't allow him to die, however.

Why would I? The fun was just beginning.

Back to Rylin. Her dead mother and brother were hacking away, taking pieces of her flesh off. I harrumphed in triumph. Brugor didn't have much luck as his late wife tore out his eyes. I listened to their delicious screams, drinking them in and imagining them as Russet and Brynjolf.

 

...

 

After the spirits had stolen their lives, I transported myself down below. 

I returned to the palace with the two torture victims behind me. I threw them into my torture dungeon, chaining them to the wall. I pulled gloves onto my hands, fixing them with a cold glare. "Well," I snarled. "Let's have some  _fun_."


	32. My Sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Regina's officially taking on Sheogorath's insanity.
> 
> ....

 

I felt the insanity of the land affecting me. Since the day I'd returned to the Isles, I refused to allow anyone to utter the name "Regina". I was Sheogorath, not the sniveling brat that allowed her own heart to die.

I called him Jyggalag afterwards. That's his name now... or it was. Before Nocturnal killed him, at my own parent's behest. The skies all over the Isles were gray and bleak.

I made the Door appear in Cyrodil, in the same place as I'd entered-- just outside Bravil. I called all who had insanity in their hearts through the door. I told my son, the only remnant of my Prince, not to kill anyone with the mind of an addled child, and he listened. Many flocked through the Gates of Madness-- and that included many adventurers looking to claim this new land.

They all went to Xedilian, providing me with much amusement. My son let those few pass, knowing his mother's wishes for a distraction. I decided to visit him, feeling upset. My Gatekeeper was finally handsome in my eyes, and he was precious to me. Late at night, when I was not bothered by anyone from Passwall, I approached him. He let out a groan and thundered over to me. I held his hand, the last remnant of my Sheogorath.

"My precious," I cooed to him, trying not to cry. I remembered what happened when Relmyna had cried  over the previous Gatekeeper, it had hurt it terribly. I avoided doing the same thing to my son. "Don't you worry, my child. I'll always be here for you," I promised. "And you're my special boy. Thank you for watching my land for the two centuries... and protecting my Realm." He moaned sadly, bowing his head. "I must go now, my son," I told him, standing up. "Goodbye." I vanished.

...

I decided to walk around in the forests for a while, surveying the land. The Grummites and Gnarls I encountered avoided me, as did the other beasts. All but a Skinned Hound, that is. It barked happily, its tongue lolling about its mouth. I decided to keep it as a pet.

"I'll call you... how about Brash?" I looked down, and the newly-named Brash tipped his head. "Good boy!" I patted his head.

That's when I was attacked from behind, a dagger between my ribs. I stared at the steel blade, feeling the spike of pain as it was pulled out. I waved a hand over it, healing the wound immediately. Brash growled furiously at my attacker. When I turned around, I saw an Orcish adventurer. His eyes widened as I shook off his stabbing.

"Who are you?" he gasped, stepping backwards. "You..."

"I'm the Daedric Prince of Madness," I hissed, enjoying the terrified glint in his eyes. "And you, sir, just signed your death warrant." I snapped his neck with a twist of my wrist. After that encounter, I refused to go anywhere without either an Aureal or Mazken by my side. I was attacked several more times, and each time, they failed to harm me, thanks to my guards.

Brash was a constant companion of mine. I created many creatures, including mounts for my loyal soldiers. To the Golden Saints, I gave a golden panther with white feathery wings, fur tufts sticking out on their paws. The Seducers received a tall, thin, bluish-green wolflike animal with thin torn clear wings, resembling some sort of insect's wings. It had black smoke emanating from holes in its body, with short spiky fur. I called them Daybreaks and Nightfangs, respectively.

Another creature was the Parasic. It was a large dragon-insect hybrid creature that dwelled in swamps and marshes, feeding on any person foolish enough to wander into its lair.

...

Haskill proved to be a faithful chamberlain, but often, the longing looks he sent my way were becoming tedious.

"Haskill, if you don't stop giving  me the doe-y eyes, I'll rip them out of your skull."

"A-as you wish, R-- Sheogorath. I will stop." He was unused to using my new name. It was my only persona, now. With the loss of a love like my own, how was my sanity supposed to remain?

"Haskill? I have a new proclamation," I announced. 

"Really?"

"No one is to ever mention the former Sheogorath, or Jyggalag. To do so is to face execution."

"As you desire, My Queen." I'd upheld the previous laws, including the banning of beards. None were allowed to grow facial hair, or else I'd be forced to kill them for trying to imitate Jyggalag. I wanted to put my dead love from my constant thoughts, and anything and everything was a reminder. My mind shifted every day, and I knew that I was where I belonged. In the land of the insane...

 

...

 

The days were busy, from creatures attacking settlements that I had to go kill to setting up a new judgement to determine new Dukes and Duchesses. It was enough to keep my mind filled... but at night, when the Nightfangs howled and the Daybreaks fell asleep, I was alone-- utterly alone with my thoughts.

Thoughts of my parents. Their intentions. Nocturnal. But most of all... my Jyggalag, my own Sheogorath. I wondered if there was an afterlife for Daedric Princes. The ponderings tormented me night after night, and it got so bad that I gripped my head as hard as I could until I screamed in agony from the mental pain.

"SAVE ME!" I wailed one night. "PLEASE, RIP OUT MY HEART, TAKE THE SUFFERING AWAY FROM ME!" But if someone heard my pleas, they failed to answer.

...

Another day passed. But this time, I had an urge to shirk my responsibilities and go for a walk in the woods. I ignored Haskill's protests and told him to take care of anything that might happen. I allowed my feet to lead me away, deep into the forest.

I ignored the creatures scuttling around my feet, only walking in the way I was pulled. Eventually, I came to a lake. It was gorgeous; a magnificent sight. The sun glittered off the shimmering waters, and a fish swam lazily along the side of the bank.

A splash distracted me. A man was sitting on the bank, his feet in the water. I immediately grew defensive, readying a spell to blast him to bits. But then he turned his head, and I had no time to react when he lunged at me.

And kissed me strongly.

"Sheogorath?" I whispered incredulously, gripping my Prince tightly.

"My love," he gasped, holding me with equal fervor. "Oh, my dearest love..."

"What happened?" I cried out, the memory of Nocturnal incinerating him at the forefront of my mind.

"I never died," he murmured, stroking my hair. "Defeated, aye. Nearly killed. But I'd never leave you." Tears spilled from my eyes, and he bent down to kiss them away.

"I'm... I don't have the words," I whispered.

"Then don't speak," he whispered softly, molding his mouth to mine again.

Thunder crashed, and I bolted up from my bed.

I got out of bed and stared at the gray and twisted world out my window. The skies were covered with gray stormclouds, and I realized that... he wasn't coming back. It finally hit me. I'd been in denial. In some way, hoping he'd return to me. 

But he never would. He. Was.  _Dead_. I collapsed on the ground in a fit of sobs, trying to rid myself of the thorn that drove itself into my heart.  _Sheogorath, Sheogorath, Sheogorath! I would do anything to bring you back to me..._

Before I knew it, I was singing to myself on that cold stone ground. My chest was heaving, but I choked out the words of a lullaby.

"You are my sunshine... my only sunshine... you made me happy when skies were gray... you'll never know, dear, how much I love you... please don't take my sunshine away. The other night, dear... when I was sleeping... I dreamt I held you in my arms... when I awoken, I was mistaken... and I hung my head down... and cried..."


	33. A Broken Heart, A Broken Mirror/Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter: A Broken Heart, A Broken Mirror/Epilogue
> 
> Warning: There may be sensitive material ahead for some.
> 
> ...

 

I shuddered with pain. I'd never felt such agony in my life. I'd take being burned to death, electrocuted into silence, frozen alive. I'd never be the same again, not after my dearest love was gone... there was nothing I could do. He was gone from me... my sunshine. 

The skies outside roared and cried along with me, striking the ground with their fists of lightning. A tornado rolled in the distance, sweeping up a building on the far end of the Isles. 

_Just let me die..._  I couldn't stand to be in that room any longer, to smell the magic that still lingered in the air from  _him_. I transported myself to my old house in Crucible and winced as I stepped on glass. The shattered mirror had stood the test of time. The bed was eaten away by moths, and the floorboards riddled with holes from termites. But the glass was untouched, not even covered with dust. Against my better judgement, I lifted up a large shard of the mirror. Inside, I saw the tears streaking down my face.

_Look at you,_  the voice said again. I almost welcomed it.  _Lost your love? Your family was--_

"My family is the reason that I might as well be dead." I gritted my teeth.

_But they have taken care of you since birth,_  the voice argued. My hands tightened on the mirror, drawing blood. 

"But they fucked up more by killing Sheogorath than the seventeen years worth of  _ignoring_  me in favor of Karliah."

_You know they loved you,_  it reasoned.  _And you loved them._

"The operative word being  _loved_. Should we have crossed paths before today, I certainly would have killed them."

_Before today?_  It was clear I'd puzzled my dark inner voice.

"Yes. Because today... it all ends." There was no Sheogorath to stop me this time. I raised the glass and swung downwards, plunging the sorrows into my stomach.


End file.
